


A Cry in the Park

by BobsBurgersStories



Category: Bob's Burgers (Cartoon)
Genre: Absolutely NOT Louigan, Amputation, Angst, Because he's horrible, Bullying, Cave-In, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Feels, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Logan being a Jerk, My First Work in This Fandom, News Media, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Present Tense, Race Against Time, Recovery, Rescue, Rivalry, Sibling Love, TV News, Trapped, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2020-06-07 17:45:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 186,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19474192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobsBurgersStories/pseuds/BobsBurgersStories
Summary: An  encounter with Logan leaves Louise trapped in a well. The town joins together to save her, but rescue isn't as easy as they think.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! I'm very happy to upload the first chapter of my very first Bob's Burgers story. I hope this will be the first of many. I hope you enjoy reading this, so please let me know what you think.  
> Disclaimer; I do not own Bob's Burgers, or the characters in any way. They belong to Loren Bouchard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I'm very happy to upload the first chapter of my very first Bob's Burgers story. I hope this will be the first of many. I hope you enjoy reading this, so please let me know what you think.  
> Disclaimer; I do not own Bob's Burgers, or the characters in any way. They belong to Loren Bouchard.

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 1

Bob pinched his nose and sighed as his youngest daughter's high-pitched shriek rang through the little restaurant. He looked through the hatch and saw Louise running about with a mustard bottle in one hand, and a ketchup bottle in the other.

“Death to the enemies!” she screamed, squirting Teddy in the back of the head with the mustard.

“Louise, what are you doing?” he asked.

“Playing _Saving Private Ryan!_ ” she answered, leaping up into a booth, and making machine gun noises as she squirted the condiment bottles in every direction.

“Louise. Louise!” he called, causing her to pause and look at him. “You're getting ketchup and mustard everywhere!”

“They're bullets, Dad,” she told him.

“Have you ever actually seen _Saving Private Ryan_?” he asked. He was certain that she hadn't; both he and Linda tried to be pretty careful about what their children watched. Tina seemed to be content with her romantic comedies, while Gene loved his actions and musicals. Louise loved horror films, she had seen a few, but they had all been heavily edited.

“No, but I know it's about soldiers!” she yelled, leaping off the booth, before rugby tackling Gene.

“ _Aaagh!”_ he screamed, immediately surrendering to the enemy, while Tina looked on and groaned. A customer in the end booth covered his ears, grimacing. The bell rang as a group of six entered the restaurant. They remained there for less than a second before Louise's screeching caused them to leave.

“Oh, my God,” Bob pinched his nose again. Louise hadn't been this hectic for a really long time, and he had no idea why she was suddenly acting like this again. “Louise,” he looked back out the hatch, and saw her again running around. “Louise!” Once again, she stopped and looked at him. “Listen, we're almost out of buns,” he said. “Why don't you do me a favour and go and get a couple of packets?”

“What?”

“I need buns,” he repeated, holding out a twenty-dollar bill. “Can you go and get some for me?”

“Your poor planning isn't my problem, Dad.”

“It would really help me.”

“Yeah, I don't think so; I still need to take down the enemy.”

“You can keep the change.” Before Bob could blink, the money was gone from his hand, and Louise was running to the door.

“Later!” she called, letting the door close behind her. Bob sighed again, as Linda began cleaning the stains up.

* * *

Louise wandered through Wharf Park, being careful to take her time. She was already imagining what she was going to buy with the change; there would be at least $16; she would be rich! She would probably be able to buy all of the chocolate in the shop.

An interesting blue and black bug caught her eye, and Louise strayed from the path, following it, wanting to poke it.

When the bug disappeared, Louise shrugged, and continued walking slowly through the park, focused on nothing except all the chocolate she was going to buy.

“Well, well, well,” came a voice to her left, causing her to look over and saw Logan standing near a tree. He placed his phone in his pocket and walked over to her. “If it isn't little cry baby Four Ears.” Louise rolled her eyes.

“What is it, Logan?” she snapped, tapping her foot impatiently.

“I just want an apology, is all,” the teen pouted sarcastically. “After all, you did throw a rotten cantaloupe on me.”

“Which was _hilarious_ ,” Louise grinned, biting back a laugh at the memory. To her surprise, Logan smiled as well, and came even closer.

“Oh, yeah, _hilarious,_ ” he said, in a squeaky high-pitched voice. “I'm gonna have to stop you right there, though; because, as you see, I didn't get to get revenge on you.” His eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, that sounds great, but I gotta get going; some of us work, you know?” Louise tried to sidestep him, but he blocked her way. Louise glared up at him. “Get outta my way, Logan!” she barked, sounding more confident than she felt. Gene wasn't here to protect her this time. Not that she _needed_ protecting; it was just nice to know that she had a brother who would step up if need be.

She looked around him and saw the exit to the park. She could probably make it back to the restaurant if she ran, but then that would make her a scaredy-cat, a baby. “Move!” Again, she tried to push past him, but Logan wasn't about to let her leave. It was a Friday afternoon, and the park was almost empty; it was perfect.

“Oh, I'll move. Right after I finally give you that reverse Norwegian stink hold!” He took a step towards her, and Louise unintentionally backed away.

“God, you're such a butt face! You're still going on about that? Even after I saved you from being pelted with snowballs?” Logan took another step towards her, and smirked once more.

“You didn't save me; you just gave me a head start – your own words, Smellcher.” Damn. She was hoping he wouldn't remember that part.

"Well, if you're still holding a grudge over that, then I can't help you," she again tried to walk around him, but he blocked her way once more. "Let me through!"

“You gonna cry again?” Then his face hardened. “You're gonna regret this. I'm gonna teach you not to mess with me!” and he shoved her hard. Louise stumbled backwards, her arms flailing; one step, two steps, and then she was gone, and she began to scream. “Huh?” Logan moved forward to where Louise had vanished. He couldn't see her, but he could still hear her screaming. Looking down, he expected to find her lying on the floor, in a lame attempt at tricking him. Instead, all he saw was the old well. The top had been removed some time ago as it was supposed to be filled in and covered over, but nobody had gotten around to it, and now it was just basically a little hole in the ground. He could still hear Louise, and her voice was coming from inside the well. His jaw dropped.

Logan heard a faint thud, followed by some rumbling, and he knelt next to the well, not knowing what to do.

“ _Logaaaan!”_ came Louise's faint, echoey, furious voice. _“You_ idiot _! You pushed me in! I'm stuck!”_

“I didn't mean to!” he called.

“ _Don't just do nothing!”_ she screeched. “ _Get me out! Get me out of here or I'm gonna kill you, you butt head!”_ When Louise heard nothing in reply, her anger grew. _“Go get my dad, stupid!”_ she ordered. _“Don't you dare leave me in here! Logan?! Go and get my dad! Go and get him,_ now!”

Logan, breathing heavily, ran out of the park as fast as he could. But he didn't go to the restaurant. Instead, he went straight home, and up to his bedroom.

“Oh, God. Oh, crap,” he muttered, pacing up and down. “God, my parents are gonna kill me! Oh, my God, _her_ parents are gonna kill me!” Logan ran to his wardrobe and began pulling clothes out, and piling them onto his bed, in anticipation of the new life he knew he was going to have to start.

“It was just an accident!” he whispered frantically, searching the back of his drawer for his secret money stash. It was still there, and he sighed in relief. “They'll never believe me. Today is the day I die!” He pulled out his phone and started looking up bus and train schedules. The further away he got, the better.

* * *

Meanwhile, Louise was still in the cold, cramped, dark, well. She was sitting at the bottom with her knees pressed up against her chest, and her arms by her sides. Her toes were touching the wall opposite her. The space was tiny; she could have bent her arms and touched the opposite wall with her elbow.

During the fall, her left leg had been straight, while the right one had been bent up in the same position it was currently stuck in. Her left foot was hurting from where she'd landed on it, and she hoped it wasn't broken. Her back was hurting, as well. When she'd landed at the bottom, there were vibrations, followed by a deep rumbling, and when Louise had opened her eyes, she was buried in rubble up to her chest, leaving her arms trapped, and she was unable to move.

“ _Logan!”_ she called, looking up at the small dot of light that was the well opening. _“Logan, you better not have left me in here! Logan?!_ God damn it _,”_ she muttered. She knew he would abandon her; she would bet money that he hadn't gone to tell her father about this. _“Somebody!”_ she yelled at the top of her lungs. She wriggled her shoulders, trying to free herself, but it was no use. She was well and truly trapped. _“Hello, anybody up there?! Little girl stuck in well, needs assistance to get out! Helloooo?! Hello, anyone?!”_

The park was empty, which was strange, considering it was a Friday afternoon. But most of the children were at Wonder Wharf, many of them finding grassy fields and the lake far too boring, preferring the arcade games and fairground rides. Unfortunately for Louise, that meant that no one could hear her, and no one knew where she was. She kept screaming, hoping for a passer-by to find her, and help her get out of the well.

Fortunately, two high school girls were walking through the park, as a detour, and had heard Louise's shrieks.

“Oh, my God, what is that?” asked one of the girls, looking around for the source of the high-pitched screeching.

“It sounds like a fox, or something,” said her friend, her blue eyes crinkling in confusion.

“Aw, poor thing; we should find it.” The two teenage girls began searching the park, looking in bushes, under benches, and behind trees. They were walking through the grassy field, their eyes fixed on the ground, when the elder of the two, Jenny, spotted the tiny well. “It's coming from here!” she gasped, dropping to her knees. “Hello?” she called into the darkness, not really expecting an answer, but she just wanted to make sure the noise was coming from the well.

“ _Finally! Listen, I'm stuck in here, and I can't get out! Go and get help! Get my dad!”_ The girl turned to her friend, shocked.

“It's a kid!” and she turned back to the well. “Are you okay? What's your name?” Jenny called, and Louise, sat there in the pitch black, rolled her eyes.

“ _Louise Belcher, and my dad is Bob Belcher! He owns the Bob's Burgers restaurant, now go and get him!”_ Jenny obediently ran off in search of the diner, while her friend, Shannon, stayed where she was, and began to talk to Louise.

* * *

Back at the restaurant, Bob poked his head through the hatch, ignoring the pitifully empty, but now clean, diner.

“Is Louise back yet?” he asked.

“Not yet,” said Linda, as she poured Teddy a refill of his coffee. Bob frowned slightly.

“That's weird; it doesn't usually take her this long.”

“Oh, she's probably on her way back. Stop worrying, Bobby.” Bob grunted slightly, and returned his attention to the grill, where he was cooking a burger.

The sound of a bell told him that someone had entered the restaurant. He had thought it was Louise, but he didn't hear her voice, and that was usually the first thing she did when she arrived. She always had to announce her presence in some way. Instead, he heard an unfamiliar voice.

“I need to speak to Bob Belcher. Is he here?” Frowning again, Bob moved away from the grill, and towards the kitchen door.

“I'm Bob Belcher,” he said, looking surprised to see an out-of-breath teenage girl behind the counter. “What's the problem?”

“It's your daughter. Louise. She's in trouble.” Upon hearing those words, both Bob and Linda's hearts almost stopped. They both quickly approached the girl, who looked rather startled. Gene and Tina, who had been sat together in a booth, refilling the napkin dispensers, looked up. Even Teddy had turned around and was watching.

“Where is she? What do you mean, she's in trouble?” asked Linda quickly, barely restraining herself from grabbing the girl and shaking her.

“She fell into the well in the park,” Jenny told them.

“What?!” Bob's jaw dropped, and he, Linda, Gene, Tina, and Teddy immediately ran out of the diner, leaving poor Jenny to hurry along behind them. The parents' minds were racing. How had Louise managed to fall into a well? How was she unable to get out of it? Linda gagged as she realised that her baby could be hurt.

Bob had never seen any kind of well in the park; he didn't even know there was one. Which meant that Louise couldn't have known, either.

They did not stop running until they had reached the park. The family, plus Teddy, stood at the entrance, panting, waiting for Jenny to catch up. “Where is she?” Bob yelled as soon as the girl was within earshot.

“She's over here!” Jenny ran through the park, down the gravel path, over the bridge, and past the lake.

Off one of the paths, in the middle of the grass, her friend Shannon was on her knees, looking down at the well, although as the grass was in need of a trim, it looked like the girl was staring at the ground. “She's down there,” said Jenny, pointing down to the little well, and they stopped in disbelief. It was so small, how could Louise, little though she was, have gotten down there? The well was no more than 14 inches in diameter.

“No way,” muttered Teddy, while Gene and Tina could only stand and stare.

“No, she can't be down there; she just can't be!” said Linda, clutching her face in horror. “It's not possible!” She and Bob dropped to their knees, and Shannon moved away to give them some room. "How did she get down there?!" Linda stretched her arm down the well opening, determined that Louise couldn't be too far down, that she could grab hold of her and pull her up. She had put her entire arm in up to her shoulder, but could feel nothing except the well wall. She looked down into the well, but it was too dark to see anything, and she hoped with all of her might that Louise was just playing a trick on them. "Oh, my God!" she cried desperately. "Louise, are you down there? Can you hear me?" Linda called, waiting for seemingly ages before Louise's distant, distorted voice came up to them, and she fell back onto the ground, unable to believe what was happening. "Oh, my God, my baby!”

“Louise?” Bob called, only hearing his echoey voice. “Louise?!”

“ _Dad? Dad! Get me out of here!”_ came the very faint voice from the well, a voice that was undeniably his daughter's.

“Oh, my God,” Linda gagged again, and she began to sway. “My baby! My baby! Louise!” She leaned back over into the well. “Louise, baby, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“ _I'm fine! Well, my foot hurts, and so does my back, but that's it!”_

“Okay, don't worry; we're going to get you out!” Bob told her, before looking up at Linda, who looked pale and distraught. “This is serious,” he said, his eyes wide. “We gotta call the police!” He knew that there was no way any of them could rescue Louise; none of them were going to be able to fit down the well.

“I already called the fire department,” said Shannon, who was standing next to Jenny. “They should be here soon.”

“Okay, good. Good,” said Bob, looking back down into the well, where his youngest daughter was trapped. “Help's coming, Louise, okay? It won't be long.”

“ _Okay!”_ came her voice, and Bob bit his lip. For a moment, the group remained silent, until sirens permeated the air.

The group looked up toward the entrance of the park as the sirens stopped, and a few minutes later, two paramedics and two firefighters were visible.

“Here! Over here!” Linda stood up and waved to get their attention, frantically dancing on the spot. “We're over here!”

The miniature rescue team soon spotted her, and they ran over to her. “You gotta help us! My daughter's in there! My little daughter! My baby! She's only nine; you've gotta get her out!” she pointed to the well, and upon seeing it, the medics' and firefighters' jaws dropped.

The two firefighters knelt down next to the well, and looked into it. They could neither see nor hear anything. One of them pulled his torch from his belt, flicked it on, and shone it into the well.

“I can't see her,” he said. “What's her name?”

“It's Louise,” said Linda.

“Louise?” the fireman, Michael, called. There was no answer, so he tried again, calling louder. “Louise, can you hear me?”

“ _Yeah! Who's that?”_ came the faint voice.

“My name's Michael; I'm a fireman, and I'm going to help you,” he told her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?”

“ _My foot and back hurts!”_ she called.

“Hurts how?” he asked. “What position are you in?”

“ _I'm sitting and my knees are against my chest!”_ Louise told him, wondering why this was necessary. _“My foot and back are throbbing; I landed on my foot!”_ Michael pulled a face; that meant there was a possibility of broken bones and a potential back injury.

“Okay, don't worry; we're going to get you out,” he said, before turning to the little group. “Are you all family?”

“Just us,” Bob stepped forward and gestured to his wife and children. “I'm her father, Bob Belcher, Lin's her mother, and Gene and Tina are her brother and sister. Teddy's a friend.”

“Do you know how long she's been down there?”

“No. No, I sent her out to get buns at around 5:45, so it was after that,” said Bob.

“We heard her after 6:30,” said Jenny. “She didn't say how long she'd been in there.”

“Did she say how she fell in?” asked Michael, and Jenny shook her head.

“No, but we didn't ask her.”

Harry, the other firefighter, nodded, and grabbed his nearby bag, pulling out a tape measure. He began to extend it into the well.

“Louise?” called Harry. “I'm lowering a tape measure down to you; let me know when it reaches you.”

“ _Okay!”_ she called, Harry continued stretching out the tape. However, after a few moments, he turned to Michael.

“Have you got a longer one? This one is only twenty feet, and it hasn't reached her yet.”

“Oh, yeah, hang on,” Michael grabbed the bag and began rummaging through it.

“Oh, my God, how far down is she?” asked Bob, worry etched all over his face. He, along with his family and Teddy, were standing silently behind Harry. Jenny and Shannon were still there, watching with a kind of curious fascination.

“If I remember correctly,” said Michael, handing Harry their 100-foot tape measure; the longest one they had, “this well goes down to about 80 feet deep. But I'm sure she's not that far down,” he said reassuringly, stretching the measure down into the well. Ten feet, twenty feet, forty feet, and still Louise remained silent, and Harry continued to feed the tape down.

“ _Ah!”_ came the voice from below. Louise had been sitting there, with nothing to do but wait, when something had touched the top of her head. She had admittedly yelped, thinking that it was another cave-in, before looking up and seeing something shiny. _“Oh, it's the tape measure!”_ she called up, after realising. _“Now hurry up and get me out of here!”_ she ordered.

“We're working on it!” Harry called, before checking the number on the tape. His face dropped. “80 feet,” he revealed, and Bob gasped, and Linda clutched her face, Gene screamed, and Tina began to hyperventilate. “She's at the bottom.”

“My daughter's trapped at the bottom of an 80 foot well?” cried Bob, his voice cracking. “How is this possible? You need to get her out now!”

“Sir, we're going to get her out, okay?” said Michael, and turned back to Harry. “I'll go grab a harness, and see if we can lower it down to her.” And he ran back to the fire engine. Bob moved forward and knelt back down by the well.

“Louise, they're going to put a harness down there to try and get you, okay?”

“ _A what?”_

“A harness, Louise. You just put your arms through it, and then they'll pull you up.”

“ _Yeah, that's gonna be a problem!”_ Louise yelled, looking down at her trapped arms and body. She wriggled her shoulders again, but she still could not free herself.

“Wh-why is that a problem?” Bob's heart began to race, and he felt Linda crouch down next to him.

“ _My arms are trapped; I can't move them. I'm buried up to my chest in rubble!”_ Louise called.

“Oh, no!” Linda's eyes filled with tears. “My baby!” Harry grabbed his walkie-talkie and began talking into it.

“Louise?” Bob desperately tried to keep his voice from cracking. “Are you sure you can't free just one of your arms?”

 _"Ohhh, of course I can!”_ came her sarcastic reply. _“I'm just sitting down here because I feel like relaxing! I'm having a lovely time!”_ Hearing that actually made Bob feel a little better; if Louise was able to be her usual sarcastic self, then that meant that she couldn't be too badly hurt, and he said this to Linda.

“Oh, God, I hope she's gonna be okay, Bobby!” she said. Michael came running back empty-handed; if Louise couldn't move her arms, then the harness was useless.

“Wait, could we attach the harness to someone, and lower them down?” asked Harry as Michael returned, but Michael shook his head.

“No adult is gonna fit down there,” he said grimly. “And if we can't reach her that way, then we'll have to dig.”

“Wait, what about Pocket-sized Rudy?” said Tina suddenly, causing everyone to look at her.

“Who?”

“He's a kid at school; he's really small and thin. Maybe we could put the harness on him, and he can free Louise.” Bob and Linda were all for it, naturally.

“I'm not so sure,” said Harry, standing on his knees. “I don't think it's a good idea to put children down there.”

“There's a child already down there,” Bob barely refrained from snapping. He couldn't understand why they were just standing around and talking.

“What I mean is, sir, is that children aren't equipped to perform rescues.”

“What's the problem?” asked Linda. “If it gets her out of there sooner, then why can't we try it?” Harry opened his mouth and then closed it. He'd heard of cases of trapped children being freed by other children. If the boy in question, along with his parents, was okay with it, then he really couldn't see the harm.

“Okay, then,” he said. “Give this kid a call, and we'll see if he can do it.”

“Mom, give me your phone,” said Tina, as Bob and Linda grinned widely. Tina dialled Rudy's number and placed the phone to her ear.

“ _Hello?”_ came the small, squeaky voice.

“Rudy, it's Tina. Tina Belcher, Louise's sister. We need a favour from you.”

“ _What kind of favour?”_

“It's Louise; she's fallen down a well; the one in the park; we can't reach her, and they can't use a rope because her arms are trapped, and the well's too small for any of us to go down, and so can you come down here, and they'll put a harness on you, and you can go down the well, and you can get her out and save her,” she said in one quick breath. There was silence on the other end.

“ _Is this for real?”_ Pocket-sized Rudy eventually.

“Yes, it's true, and we need to get her out right now, and so we really need your help. Will you do it?” she asked.

“ _Alright,”_ he said, and Tina sighed in relief. _“She helped me out; it's the least I can do.”_

“Thanks. Come here now, okay?” she said before hanging up. “He's on his way over,” she announced, and Gene cheered.

“ _Helloooo?!”_ came the irritated voice from underground. _“Still stuck down here!”_

“We know, Louise,” said Harry.

“ _Are you going to get me out?”_

“Yes, we are. We're just working something out.” He paused, before realising that keeping her distracted until the other child arrived would be a good idea. “How did you fall in?”

“ _Logan pushed me!”_ she shouted angrily, causing the Belchers and Teddy to look at each other.

“What?” Linda leaned forward.

“ _Logan Bush pushed me, and I fell in!”_

“He what?!” Linda growled, her eyes blazing. “That little -!” but Bob stopped her.

“Let's just focus on getting Louise out,” he said.

“Wait, are you saying that someone deliberately pushed you in?” the firefighter was confused. “Why would he do that?” he continued.

“ _He came up to me, and said he was gonna get revenge for the cantaloupe thing,”_ Louise began.

“What cantaloupe thing?” asked Bob.

“ _A while ago, I threw a mouldy cantaloupe off the fire exit, and it hit Logan, and today he said I was gonna regret it, and he shoved me, and I stumbled backwards, and I fell in the well!”_

“What?!” Now Bob was fuming. “He shoved you?!” What right did that punk kid have pushing his child? He was very tempted to go down to Logan's house and chew him out for this, but he needed to stay with his daughter.

“That little -!” Linda repeated, before turning to Harry. “You aren't gonna let him get away with that, are you?”

“Well, we could send a policeman over to chat with him,” Michael suggested, having returned with the harness, along with a hose and a cylindrical tank.

“Do it,” said Bob. “This is his fault, and he should be punished.” Michael only nodded. “What's all that?” he added, looking at the hose and the tank.

“Oxygen,” he said, and Linda gasped. “It's nothing serious,” he said quickly, “it's just, we don't know what the air is like down there, and this is just a precaution.” He set up the tank next to a nearby tree, and connected the hose to it, before lowering the hose down the well.

“Do you know the boy's address?” asked Harry.

“It's, uh – it's 445 Athena Street,” said Linda.

“Alright, I'll radio the police, and get them to have a talk with him,” Michael said, handing the rest of the hose to Harry, before stepping off to the side, and holding up his walkie-talkie. “Hello, Oceanside Police? This is Michael Wood, I'm a fireman on duty at Wharf Park where a young girl, a Louise Belcher, has been pushed into a well; I am requesting for an officer to go and talk to the perpetrator at 445 Athena Street.”

“ _Copy that, sir. Do you request any backup at the park?”_ Michael looked around; there was no crowd, and the child who would hopefully pull Louise out was on his way.

“No, we'll be fine, thanks,” he said, and then turned back to the Belchers. “Okay, a policeman has been sent to his house,” he said.

“Okay, good,” said Bob, looking back into the well. “Where is Rudy? He needs to hurry up!”

* * *

Two police officers were driving to Logan's home. The one sat in the passenger seat was going through the information they had been given.

“Okay,” said Derek, his blue eyes scanning his notepad, “so, a nine-year-old girl named Louise Belcher was in the park when she was pushed into a well by a Logan Bush, fifteen years old.” He pushed his blonde hair off his forehead. “Apparently, he said he was getting revenge on her for something.”

“Just awful,” said the older officer, Brian, his eyes focused on the road. His salt and pepper hair was only just revealed underneath his hat, which matched his moustache. His brown eyes were full of experience. “I tell ya something, this town's just getting worse and worse.”

“You got that right, sir. Oh, here it is, just over there,” and Brian pulled up outside the house.

Climbing the front steps, one of them knocked on the door. After a few moments, a middle-aged blonde woman opened the door. She frowned slightly upon seeing them.

“Yes? How can I help you?”

“Mrs Cynthia Bush?” asked Brian.

“Yes?”

“Do you have a son named Logan?” Her eyes widened a bit.

“Yes, what's the matter?”

“May we speak with him?”

“Why? He's not done anything.”

“We'd like to talk with him.”

“Oh, alright,” Cynthia stood aside and opened the door. “Please come in. Logan!” she called up the stairs. Tom was still at work, and wouldn't be home until later.

Logan came down the stairs and visibly paled when he saw the policemen.

“Hi, Logan,” said the younger officer, Derek. He had been on the force for five years, and although he loved his job, he found it difficult sometimes. “We just want to ask you a few questions.” Logan nodded silently, clenching and unclenching his hands. Cynthia came and stood beside him.

“Logan's been at home since six, and he's been in his room since then,” she informed them.

“Logan, do you know a girl called Louise Belcher?” Derek had to look over at Cynthia as she rolled her eyes, and muttered 'that one.'

“Yes, Mrs. Bush?” he raised an eyebrow, and Cynthia pursed her lips.

“Louise Belcher – very difficult child,” she said. Derek said nothing and turned his attention back to Logan.

“Do you know Louise Belcher?” he repeated, and Logan slowly nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Did you see Louise today?” he asked, noticing how the boy squirmed.

“Yeah,” he said eventually.

“So?” said Cynthia. “Whatever she's done, it doesn't involve my boy.”

“Well, apparently it does ma'am. You see, Louise is trapped in the old well at Wharf Park, and she's said that Logan pushed her in, and so we just wanted to come by here, and confirm that she's telling the truth,” said Brian.

“That's ridiculous! Logan wouldn't do something like that! That awful child is telling lies again! Isn't that right, Logan?” Cynthia looked down at her son, who was fidgeting anxiously. Beads of sweat were forming along his forehead. “Logan?”

“I didn't mean for her to fall in,” he said, causing Cynthia to gasp.

“What?”

“So, you did push her?” confirmed Brian.

“Yes. No! Yes, I did push her. But, I didn't know she would fall in the well; I didn't even know the well was there!”

“Wait, you don't believe he meant to do this, do you?” Cynthia asked the officers.

“Well, ma'am, the little girl is trapped 80 feet underground because she was pushed,” he turned to Logan, “I think you should go and see for yourself, and apologise to her.”

“No, wait!” Cynthia prevented Logan from stepping forward. “This isn't my son's fault!”

“He did admit to pushing her, ma'am,” Derek forced himself to keep a neutral face.

“Well, yes, fine, he may have given her a little push, but that doesn't mean it's his fault that she fell in the well! I'm sure she did this deliberately!”

“You're saying that a nine-year-old girl purposely jumped into a well?”

“Well, she might have – she, she's a -” Cynthia sputtered. “Look, I know that family, and that little girl is a hell-raiser! You know she hired a biker gang to cut off my son's ears?”

“And why would she do that?” Both policemen were getting a little tired of her. Already, they could tell that she was one of those mothers who thought their child could do no wrong. And a liar too, judging by what she had just said. As if a child had connections to a biker gang, let alone them following her orders.

“Because he stole her hat!” This was getting too far-fetched for them.

“Ma'am, it's getting dark. If it's alright with you, we'd like Logan to go and apologise to Louise.”

Cynthia opened her mouth, but was stopped by Logan. “Mom, let's just go there, so I can say sorry, and then we can go home.” Cynthia remained silent, her lips pursed, before she grabbed her coat and bag, and steered Logan out of the front door.

* * *

They arrived at Wharf Park at the same time as Pocket-sized Rudy, who had what seemed to be the entire Wagstaff student population trailing behind him, along with some of their parents. It had happened almost like a Chinese whisper; Rudy had told his parents, who in turn had called up their friends and told them, and word had spread rather quickly. Everyone wanted to see the situation for themselves, and to see what could hopefully be a real live rescue right before their eyes.

Logan and Cynthia were escorted through the crowd, where the Belchers still remained by the well. Pocket-sized Rudy was talking to a fireman, while the two paramedics were on their knees at the well, talking to Louise.

“This is all a little overdramatic, isn't it?” muttered Cynthia, rolling her eyes, as they arrived at the well. When Bob and Linda saw them, they did not move, but their faces said it all. Linda narrowed her eyes at Logan. Bob placed his hand on her shoulder, and Linda turned away and looked back down the pitch-black well.

“Well, she's down there,” said Derek, pointing to the little hole.

“Yeah, I know,” muttered Logan, scowling.

“Is this the boy?” asked Harry, seeing Logan and Cynthia flanked by the officers, who nodded. Harry then gestured for Logan to step forward, which he did.

“Louise is stuck at the bottom; she's buried up to her chest in rubble, which means that we're having problems getting her out,” said Harry, while Logan fought to remain silent. Everyone was treating him as though he had done it deliberately. Although he did feel slightly guilty, he felt that maybe this was a wake-up call; maybe now Louise would watch that mouth of hers. “Is there anything you'd like to say to her?”

Logan silently knelt down next to the well. He couldn't hear anything from it. Muttering from behind him began to grow, as did the impatient shuffling of the school kids.

“Fou – Louise?” he called, not hearing an answer. “Louise?”

“ _Nice to see you decided to come back,”_ came her annoyed voice. _“What do you want?”_

“I want to apologise. I'm sorry, Louise,” he did his best to sound sincere. He was a little bit sorry, he just couldn't bring himself to be that cut up about it.

“ _Well, that's nice to hear,”_ Louise was unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, and Logan rolled his eyes, a trait he inherited from his mother. _“And now, I have something to say to you; if I die down here,_ I'm gonna haunt you forever! _”_ she suddenly screamed. _“You hear that, Logan?! Every waking moment will be filled with fear! You'll never relax again!”_

Logan went back to his mother.

“What did you say to her?” asked Regular-sized Rudy, wondering why this teenage boy was talking to his friend, when everyone else had been told to keep back.

“He apologised for pushing my daughter in there!” Linda said loudly, unable to stop herself. Rudy's jaw dropped, as did many of the others'. The children started whispering to their friends, with wide eyes and wild hand gestures, while a lot of the parents gasped and tutted, and gave Cynthia 'that' look, making her feel about an inch tall.

“You pushed a little girl down a well?” asked one mother, shaking her head.

“It was an accident!” said Logan, “I didn't know she would fall in!”

“Why would you push a little girl in the first place?” said a voice from behind him. Logan turned to see a man he didn't recognise, staring at him with disdain.

“Well, she's – she – she started it!” he stammered, causing even more whispering and eye-rolling, and muttering. Many of them turned away from him, and focused on the well, where Pocket-sized Rudy had been fitted with a harness. The cable it was attached to had been looped over a wide tree branch, and the medics and firefighters were going to pull him up and lower him in.

“Okay, everyone keep back!” said Brian, after getting a nod from Michael. “Give us some space!” Bob and Linda stood up and stepped back. Gene and Tina, who had been with Teddy, moved forward and stood next to their parents. They couldn't help but look happy; they would be seeing Louise very shortly.

The four men pulled at the rope, lifting Pocket-sized Rudy into the air. Several adults and children pulled out their phones and began recording.

“I'm totally putting this on Snapchat,” said Tammy to Jocelyn, holding her phone up high.

“Oh, my God, you totally should!” said Jocelyn, aiming her phone at Pocket-sized Rudy.

“Are you ready?” called Harry.

“I'm ready!” Rudy answered. He was holding a harness in one hand, and a walkie-talkie in the other, as a means of communication. Officer Brian had the other one, and he would relay any information to Harry and Michael.

There was silence as Rudy was slowly lowered into the well. It was perfect; he had lots of spare room. He would have her out of there in no time.

Brian kept the walkie-talkie to his ear, hearing nothing except a few faint grunts, and the boy's breathing.

“ _Wait,”_ he heard suddenly, and he held up his hand to signal for the men to stop. _Wait, lift me out,”_ came Rudy's voice.

“Lift him out!” he ordered, and the rope instantly began moving in the other direction. After a few moments, Rudy appeared, and the two policemen approached him. “What's the problem?”

“I need to go in upside down,” said Rudy. “I tried to turn when I was in there, but I almost got stuck. I need to be upside down.”

“You're sure?” asked Derek, and Rudy nodded. “Okay, lift him back up!” he yelled, and Rudy was pulled into the air once again. This time, once he was suspended above the well, he curled into himself, and turned upside down. He was lowered instantly, the policemen standing over the well, watching as Rudy disappeared out of sight.

“ _Ooh, it's dark in here,”_ came his squeaky voice over the radio.

“It's alright, you're doing great,” Derek assured him. “When you reach her, try and clear some of the debris, so that she can move, and then she can put the harness on.”

“ _Then what?”_ Rudy was sounding rather breathless, which was worrying.

“Kid, you okay?” asked Derek.

“ _Yeah, fine. So, what next?”_

“Well, once the harness is on, you can either take hold of it, and pull her up yourself, but we would recommend that you wait for us to lower a cable down to her so we can bring her up. Kid?” he noticed that Rudy was not answering. “Kid? Rudy, you alright, son?”

“ _I feel dizzy,”_ came his faint voice, and Derek instantly signalled for the crew to start pulling him up again. _“Oh, God, I feel like I'm gonna faint.”_

“It's alright,” said Derek again, as the four men continued pulling, and after about ten minutes, Pocket-sized Rudy's feet appeared, and Brian and Derek gently removed him from the well, carefully turning him upright. His face was bright red, he swayed on the spot, and he was shaking slightly.

“I couldn't do it,” he gasped. “I don't know how far down I got, but I was gonna faint, I know it. My heart was racing -”

“Hey, you did your best,” said Derek, smiling gently at the sweating, shaking boy. A paramedic came over to inspect him, while Brian headed over to the Belchers, who were looking confused.

“Where's Louise?” asked Linda, as soon as he reached her. “Are they going to bring her up soon?”

“I'm afraid he couldn't reach her, ma'am,” he revealed, and Linda's face fell.

“What? But he's tiny; he can fit all the way down there!”

“He was upside down, which complicated matters. He only got to about twenty feet, by my estimates, when he couldn't do it any more. He would have fainted, which wouldn't have helped Louise.” Although Bob and Linda were still disappointed, they understood.

“Okay, so what do we do now?” asked Bob, as Derek approached.

“We'll have to dig her out,” he said. “I don't see any other option.” Pulling out his walkie-talkie, Derek stepped away, while the Belchers moved back to the well.

“Chief?” he began, after being put through to the Deputy Police Chief, Jack Davis. “I am requesting backup at Wharf Park immediately; I have a little girl trapped in a well, and am in need of assistance.” He knew that he and Brian and the others were not equipped to deal with this by themselves. “I am also urgently requesting an excavator right away; this is an emergency.” When his chief told him that the necessary equipment would be arriving as soon as possible, Derek put down his radio, and looked over at the shuffling, impatient crowd, and the distraught Belchers.

Teddy was also kneeling down next to the well with them.

* * *

Louise remained at the bottom of the well, occasionally looking up. She was getting tired of being stuck in there; as far as she could tell, nobody seemed to be that concerned about getting her out.

“ _Hellooo!”_ she called, tilting her head up. Her voice was starting to hurt from all the screaming she had been doing, which was saying something, because she screamed a lot. _“Have you forgotten about me? Are you gonna get me out this year?”_

“Sorry, Louise,” called one of the paramedics, Simon. “We've just called in for a digger, and we're waiting for it to arrive!”

“ _Well, you sure are taking your own sweet time!”_ she yelled back, only for her voice to crack and go hoarse. She coughed a couple of times. _“Oh, no,”_ she groaned.

Simon heard her and bit his lip worriedly. He got up onto his knees, and looked around, before spotting what he needed.

“Could you come here, please, Miss?” he called, gesturing to the person in question. The Belchers and Teddy turned around to see news anchor Olsen Benner walking toward them, followed by her cameraman.

“Wait, when did she get here?” asked Bob, as Simon got to his feet.

“She's been here for over half an hour,” said Gene.

“How did she even find out?” Linda looked slightly confused.

“I guess she must have found out from someone here,” Teddy jerked his head over toward the crowd. The reporter had, in fact, been assigned the story after her boss had heard about it over the police scanner.

Simon approached Olsen, and nodded politely, before going right into his request. “Have you got a microphone with a long cord we can use?” he asked, looking between her and the cameraman, Ed.

"What?" Ed Sellers replied. He was fairly young, but considered himself a veteran. Some thought he was wasted as a cameraman, and that he deserved to be in front of the camera, and perhaps he did, with his wavy brown hair, deep blue eyes, and chiselled jaw. But filming was Ed's passion.

"We need it; she's starting to go hoarse, and we'll be able to hear her with that. And if you let us use it, you can stay near the well and film." Now Ed needed no persuasion; he immediately passed him the shotgun microphone and reached into his bag for a speaker and a cord. Simon connected the microphone to the speaker and started lowering it down the well, keeping the speaker close by.

While this was going on, the ambulance had inched its way through the park and had parked some thirty feet away from the well, doors open, ready to get on the road once the girl was out. “Louise?” called Simon, still lowering the microphone, “I'm lowering a microphone down to you, so you don't have to shout any more, okay?” Louise did not answer, and merely looked up, waiting for the appearance of the microphone. It was pitch black, and she was unable to see anything, not even the speck of light from the top of the well, due to night having fallen. It was also getting very cold, and she couldn't stop herself from shivering. “Louise? Louise, can you hear me?” came Simon's voice, and she groaned in frustration.

“ _Yeees, I can,”_ she groaned, almost whining. _“Just get me out!”_

At ground level, her voice could now be heard through a speaker.

“Louise, we're going to get you out, I promise you,” said Bob.

When the excavator arrived, almost thirty minutes later, it was joined by several more firemen, along with the Fire Chief, who immediately began ordering nearby benches to be dismantled, and ushering the crowd back in order for the machine to reach the well. Even though they were standing well out of range, the Belchers and Teddy still had to cover their ears as the machine plunged into the ground a few feet away from the well.

"Wait, wait! _Stop!"_ cried Simon, waving his arm, before the digger could repeat the process. “Back up!” he ordered, and the driver poked his head out of the excavator. “Back up! We don't want another cave in!” Another one would be fatal; they had to go about this carefully.

The driver dutifully backed up until he was at least seven feet away, before he resumed his job. However, the further down the machine dug, the more violently the earth trembled, and Simon called for the digger to stop soon after a two-foot deep hole had been established. “It's not gonna work,” he said, getting to his feet. “The deeper you dig, the heavier the vibrations; we can't risk it.” As the driver nodded, the other firemen approached Simon.

“Right, fill us in,” said fire Chief, James Richards.

"Well, we've got a nine-year-old girl stuck down there, sir. She's 80 feet down, so at the very bottom. We've tried to lower a harness down there, but she couldn't grab it; she's buried up to her chest in rubble and she can't move her arms, and it's too small for any of us to go down, so we decided to dig. We don't know what sort of injuries she has – she said her foot and her back hurts. We've got a microphone and oxygen down to her, and she's talking to us; she seems to be okay.”

"Where's the family?" asked Deputy Police Chief Jack Davis, who looked much younger than his thirty-eight years; only a few wrinkles around his hazel eyes, and a slight belly revealed his age.

"They're over there," Simon pointed out the Belchers', who were standing huddled together a few feet away from the well.

"Why did you bring an excavator in?" butted in another policeman.

"Well, you're going about it the right way; you need to dig a parallel shaft next to the well," nodded the fire department Chief, James Richards, rubbing his chin, his blue eyes crinkling thoughtfully. He was slightly younger than Davis, but with more than ten years as chief, he was in no way less experienced.

"What about a drilling rig? That would work better," said Davis, already formulating a plan in his mind, and turning to his colleague. “Go and radio a request for a drilling rig; tell them it's an emergency.” The officer nodded and left.

The Belcher family, along with Teddy, were standing as close as they could possibly be to the well; from their point of view, all they could see were a bunch of paramedics and firemen just standing around talking.

"Why aren't they doing anything?" Bob demanded, causing the crowd to look over at him. One of the officers overheard him and he gestured to a policewoman, who soon approached the Belchers'. She was rather tall and wore her dark hair in a sensible ponytail.

"Mr.. Belcher, is it? I'm Carol Parker; I'm a police officer. If you have any questions about anything, let me know."

"Why aren't they doing anything?" Bob repeated, not even acknowledging Carol.

"I'll go and talk to them and see what I can find out," Carol smiled reassuringly at them and walked back over to the officers'. "They want to know what you're doing. What can I tell them?" Her only answer was silence.

"Tell them we'll have her out in a few hours," Davis advised her. She only nodded and walked away. Richards doubted that the rescue would take such a short amount of time, but he kept quiet.

"They say they'll have her out in a few hours," Carol said brightly, rejoining the family.

"Hours?" Linda repeated, looking worriedly at her.

"They can't do it sooner?" asked Tina.

"I'm sure they'll do their best to get her out as quickly as possible," Carol assured her.

"But they're not doing anything!" Bob snapped. "They're just standing around!"

"Bobby, they need to figure out the safest way to get her out," said Teddy, surprisingly mature, trying to calm his best friends down.

"That's not good enough," Bob marched over to the police. Carol remained with the family, talking to them, asking questions, and trying to ease their worries.

"Why aren't you doing anything?" Bob repeated, standing right in front of the police and fire chiefs.

"Are you the girl's father?" asked Davis.

"Yes, and I want you to tell me why you're just standing around while my daughter is stuck down that well!" Bob had reached the end of his tether; he just couldn't take it any more. It was almost 9pm; Louise had been trapped for around three hours. He just wanted his daughter.

"Well, sir, we're discussing a plan of action right now. We're figuring out a way to dig down to her quickly and efficiently, in a way that won't cause another cave in."

"... So what is taking so long?" asked Bob after a moment's pause.

"We have sent for the drilling rig, which is on its way, and until it arrives, we can't do anything. Please..." Davis glanced at one of the police officers, who escorted Bob back to his family.

* * *

Almost an hour after they'd left, the police officers' returned, escorting a hydraulic rotary drilling rig. Chief Richards had drawn up a crude plan of how the rescue operation was to be executed.

"Now, here's what we do; we dig a rescue shaft down next to the well, about five feet away, and then we drill across to where she is; she's eighty feet down, so, if the average man is six foot tall, give or take, that means we're going to have to dig the shaft to be eighty-seven feet."

"All right, let's get to it," said Davis.

"What about a backup plan?"

"We don't have one yet." At that moment, they were again approached by Carol.

"How's the family doing?" asked Richards.

"They're starting to calm down, but they're still really worried. What should I tell them?"

"Well, we'll keep you informed as we go along; just tell them what you think is best. I'd like to tell you more, but this is a new experience." Carol only nodded.

"Tell them we're going to get her out,” said Davis simply. Carol nodded again and left.

"All right, let's get moving!" ordered Richards.

Two more police cars had arrived when the rig did and as the vehicle made its way to the park, surrounded by men who would assist in the drilling, two of the four officers placed barriers about twenty feet away from the well and ushered the ever-growing crowd behind it, while the other two ran over to the well.

Richards was explaining the rescue process to the family.

“The only way we can get her out, is if we dig a shaft down next to the well, and then drill a tunnel across to where she is and we'll get her out that way.”

“How long will that take?” Linda asked.

“A couple of hours,” he estimated.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Bob enquired. “I'll do anything.”

“No. There isn't anything for you to do; we've got the drilling rig operator, we've got the drillers. I guess all you can do is take care of your family.” Bob only nodded disappointedly.

Linda was staring at the well, and at all of the people surrounding it. She could not believe what was happening; her baby girl was trapped in a well. All she wanted was for her to get out.

They were moved back once again, as the drilling rig approached, to make room for the mammoth piece of machinery, its treads trampling the grass into dust. The family watched as the hydraulic rig was driven up to them, the machine almost dwarfing the crowd. Simon and Patrick, his colleague, had had to move, for the rig was drilling another hole on the other side of the well. Once the machine had started digging, they moved back to the well, as the huge, pointed spiral descended seemingly toward them, with horrible scraping and crunching sounds as it ploughed into the ground.

“Shut it down! Turn it off!” Simon cried suddenly. The driver switched the engine off, letting the residents listen to the panicked, frightened shouting of Louise. Bob, Linda, Tina, Gene, and Teddy quickly moved forward and leaned towards the opening.

“ _What is that?! What is it?!”_ the girl was heard frantically calling, sounding terrified.

“Louise? Louise? Answer me, Louise. Don't be scared; we're getting you out,” Bob called, trying to calm the girl down, but feeling so helpless. He wasn't even able to comfort his own daughter.

“ _What is it?!”_ She screamed, her heart pounding. Was it an earthquake? Because that's what it sounded like to her.

“Listen, don't worry about all the noise; we're drilling a tunnel down to reach you, so don't be scared, okay? Louise?" Bob breathed a sigh of relief when he heard his daughter's echoey voice calling up to him.

“ _I wanna get out, I wanna get out!"_

"Louise, listen to me, we're going to get you out, okay? It won't take long, but we're going to get you." Linda, Gene, and Tina watched him comfort his daughter silently. Linda felt sick to her stomach; Tina felt useless because there was nothing she could do, and even Gene seemed to realise how serious the situation was, for he was sombrely watching the scene before him.

“ _They're getting me out?”_

“Yes, they are. They going to continue until you're out.” Upon hearing that, Louise calmed down. She could put up with the noise if it meant she was going to be freed soon.

The family were ushered back. They refused to go back home until Louise was safely out of the well, so they remained in the park, watching and waiting. The five of them watched in silence as the digging of the tunnel continued; the rotary drilling rig would dig down into the earth a few feet, then the bit would reappear and the excess dirt and rock would be shaken off and quickly cleared away, before repeating the process. It seemed painfully slow.

* * *

"Unbelievable," muttered Simon, returning to the well, after having been speaking to some of the other personnel in the park.

"What?" asked Patrick

"We've got a crowd control problem; I don't believe this. You'd better tell them to call for more backup,” he nodded to police officer George, who nodded and rose. The sight of the police cars, combined with the ambulance and the fire engine, had already brought out most of the nearby neighbours', and now, with the story of a little girl having been pushed into a well, and the appearance of the drilling rig, it seemed that half the town had to come to check out the situation. George walked over to Davis and explained the problem and Davis assured him that he would rectify the situation immediately.

"We'll get right on it," George nodded, and turned to leave before stopping.

"Oh, do you want any lights set up?"

"Actually, yes, that'd be great," replied Davis after a moment's thought and then returned back to the well. Noticing that a few more people who looked suspiciously like reporters were gathering, he turned to the Belcher family and spoke quietly to Carol, who nodded an affirmative.

"I'm going to give a quick statement to the press; they're going a bit mental," she told them, who only nodded numbly, as if they were not really hearing her.

* * *

Back at the restaurant, Mort entered, surprised to see that it was deserted. He'd noticed that the diner was still open, which was unusual; usually they closed at seven.

Mort looked around, becoming more confused by the moment. A half-full cup of coffee was on the counter, along with the coffee pot; the booth nearest to him had all of the napkin dispensers on it, with napkins strewn all over the table, and a few on the floor. The television was on, switched to the local news. The place looked just like it had been abandoned.

“Guys?” he called, walking through the empty restaurant. “Everything okay?” Entering the kitchen, he saw that the grill was still on, and he quickly moved to switch it off. All of the food had been left out; the lettuce and tomatoes were lying exposed in their trays; the burger buns were lying open on the counter, and the patties were next to the grill. Now he was getting worried. Bob would never leave the place in such a state.

Mort re-entered the dining area and went behind the counter. He grabbed the phone, whilst simultaneously rummaging through the papers that were scattered about. While he was dialling Teddy's number, he caught sight of Andy and Ollie knocking on the front window incessantly.

“What are you doing behind the counter, Mr Mort?” asked Andy when the mortification had opened the door.

“I was looking for Bob,” he said, and the twins giggled. Mort saw Jimmy Pesto and Jimmy Junior across the street, watching them.

“We're going to see him,” Ollie told him, the both of them looking rather excited.

“Where is he?” Mort was curious.

“In the park! Don't you know?” they cried in unison.

“Know what?”

“Louise is in the well! We're all going to watch them get her out!” the twins were already running down the street, leaving their father and older brother to hurry along behind them.

“Wait, what well? Louise is in a well? Wait for me!” Mort cried, jogging along behind them.

* * *

Carol had a small crowd of reporters gathered around her like a flock of seagulls as she gave them a quick statement.

"We've got a nine-year-old girl named Louise Belcher, trapped eighty feet down a 14-inch wide abandoned well,” she read from her notebook. “It has been revealed that she was pushed in by a teenage boy, who has since apologised. We've got oxygen and a microphone down to her; she's been talking to us and she seems to be okay. Louise is buried up to her chest in rubble, so drillers are currently digging a parallel shaft to reach her. We expect to have her out in a few hours." The reporters started to clamour and gabble dozens of questions as she walked away. "I'll let you know when I know more," she said briskly, striding away, and back to the Belcher family.

Olsen Benner shrugged and turned to the camera, having already acquired another microphone from their well-equipped news van.

"This is Olsen Benner, Channel 6 News, reporting live from Wharf Park where a nine-year-old girl is trapped in an abandoned water well after being pushed in by a teenage boy. She's eighty feet below ground and partially buried in rubble, but appears to be unharmed. At this time, reports are incomplete, but police spokesman Carol Parker said they expect to have her out in, quote, a few hours."

Nearly an hour had passed now and the vertical shaft wasn't even ten feet deep yet. More and more locals were assembling, and the family hadn't moved an inch either. They were slowly getting used to the continuous rumbling of the digger now and Bob's eyes followed it as it pushed into the earth once more. He had heard one of the soon-to-be drillers say that the digging was taking so long because of basalt; solid rock.

Patrick and Simon had been moved away from the well, and two of the police officers, by name of Tim and Charlie, had taken their place, and they were lying by the well, listening to Louise. The second hole, which had dug down ten feet before being abandoned, had been hurriedly filled in, so they were able to remain close to the well, and a pair of headphones had been attached to the speaker, which was what they were using to hear the girl.

Carol kept talking to the police, trying to give the family as much information as she could, and every so often, deputy police chief Jack Davis would come over and talk to them himself, telling them that they were working as quickly as they could, but the rock was slowing them down.

Bob couldn't take it any more; he marched across the grass. Bypassing the well, and the rescue shaft, he approached the drilling rig, and before anyone could stop him, jumped up into the chair next to the rather portly driver, almost knocking him out of the seat in his haste.

"Whoa, sir, you can't be in here!" the man said, letting go of the handles he was using.

"Yes, I can. My daughter's in the well, and I need to get her out," Bob leaned forward and grabbed the levers, jerking them about clumsily, and causing the spiral bit to pull out of the ground.

"Sir, you can't do this; you don't know how to operate it," said the driver, trying to unstick his hands, as two policemen approached the rig and tried to haul the distraught father out, but he held fast.

"You can tell me how to work it, and then I can help! I could do it much faster than you are! I'll have her out in no time!" To Bob's dismay, he was forcibly removed from the machine and taken back to his family. "Why won't you let me help?" he demanded, trying to break free from the officers' grip. "That's my daughter in there, and I want her out! Let me help!"

"Please, sir, leave it to the drillers; they know what they're doing."

"But they don't! She's been in there too long! You need to let me help her!"

"Your daughter is going to be fine; we're going to do everything possible to get her out safely; please, go and be with your family." Growling, Bob returned and stood next to Linda.

“Bobby?” began Teddy.

“She's been in there too long!” he repeated. “It's...” he quickly checked Teddy's watch, “it's after 11! That's gotta be almost five hours! She shouldn't be in there!” He caught sight of his children's faces; both Tina and Gene looked like they were about to cry, but that was nothing compared to how upset Linda looked. He sighed. “I'm sorry, guys.”

“No, don't be; we all want her out,” said Linda, pulling her husband into a hug. “It won't be long,” she said.

* * *

Mort arrived at Wharf Park, along with the Pesto family, and he made his way to the front of the barriers.

“Bob! Bob!” he called, spotting the family, and looking around at all of the equipment and personnel around them. “What's going on?” he asked as soon as Bob had approached him. “They're saying that Louise is in a well? Is that true?”

“Yes,” said Bob, and Mort's eyes widened. He looked over Bob's shoulder for the well, but he couldn't see anything.

“Where is it?” he asked, and Bob pointed to the brick-lined hole in the ground, where Tim and Charlie still lay.

“No – no way,” muttered the mortician. “How did she get down there?”

“Logan pushed her in!” Bob snarled, looking over at Logan and Cynthia. Mort looked, as well.

“Wait, what? Why would he do that?”

“Because he's an evil, little jerk!” Bob was physically shaking; Mort could see how angry he was, so he tried to change the subject away from Logan.

“How are they going to get her out?”

“They're going to dig a tunnel, and then dig over to her.”

“How long will it take?”

“I don't know!” said Bob a little sharper than he had intended to. He sighed, “I'm sorry, Mort; I'm just a little stressed out right now.”

“Hey, it's okay,” smiled Mort. “I'm sure they'll get her out real soon.”

“Thanks,” said Bob quietly, gesturing for Mort to follow.

* * *

Olsen and Ed were still filming at the well site and to pass the time until Louise was rescued, Olsen was interviewing police and rescue workers. Most of them had said pretty much the same thing; that Louise appeared to be okay, she didn't seem to be badly injured, they were in the process of drilling a parallel rescue shaft to reach her, and it would only be a few hours until the girl was out. A photographer whom Olsen knew by sight had also shown up and was taking pictures. They were hoping to have this all wrapped up by midnight, so it could make the morning news.

While Olsen stood back and Ed filmed the rig tunnelling into the ground, her phone rang. Flipping it open, Olsen stepped away from the camera.

" _What are you playing at, Benner?"_ came her boss, Nathan's voice on the other end. _"I told you to stay there until the girl was out; it's been nearly five hours; what have you been doing?!"_

"Sir, I've been waiting for them to get her out, just like you said," Olsen told him calmly.

 _"What?"_ came Nathan's voice and she knew what he was thinking.

"I was thinking of a wishing well, sir, the same as you probably were; but it's a small well, just over a foot wide, and the girl's trapped in that."

_"Really?"_

"Yes, sir. Eighty feet down."

 _"Stay there,"_ Olsen could practically see the dollar signs in her boss's eyes. Hell, she could hear the cash register dinging. _"This could be a potential gold mine; Benner, you don't leave that site until that girl comes up. Got it?"_

"Yes, sir."

_"Tell me, what are they doing so far? What's the rescue operation?"_

"They are currently digging a parallel shaft next to the well, and they're going to tunnel over to it and get her out that way. They used an excavator at first but there were too many vibrations, so they're using a drilling rig. It's not expected to last for more than a few hours. We have not yet got a visual on the girl, but a microphone has been lowered down so we can hear her, and she is also being given oxygen. Oh, and she's called Louise, she's nine, and she was pushed in by a teenage boy," Olsen rattled off, knowing Nathan would want to hear it.

_"Okay, good, just stay there and keep filming and be sure to keep us updated so we can get the first editions out. Oh, and make sure you get an exclusive interview with the family."_

"Yes, sir," was all Olsen said, before hanging up and walking back over to Ed.

Not long after, the floodlights arrived and assembled at various points around the well site.

Bob and the rest of the family had still not moved, and as the lights were switched on, making it seem like it was still daylight, he grew more and more worried. Louise could be in serious danger; as it was not known what sort of injuries she may have, they didn't know how long she would be able to survive. It was a race against time.

Cynthia and Logan were still there, to the surprise of many. Every once in a while, a nasty remark would be muttered just loud enough for them to hear it. Mainly about her son being a bully, and picking on an innocent little girl. Cynthia was getting rather tired of it.

“Come on, it's time to go,” she said, placing her arm around Logan.

“Finally,” he muttered, as they stepped through the crowd. However, they were noticed by Bob and Linda.

“Hang on, where do you think you're going?” asked Bob, stepping away from his wife and staring at them. Cynthia raised an eyebrow.

“I'm taking my son home; it's late, and he has a karate class tomorrow,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Bob looked confused, unaware that they were being filmed by Olsen and Ed.

“So?”

“So, he needs to get some sleep,” Cynthia tried to move forward, but Bob held out his arm, stopping her.

“Now, see, I don't think that's fair,” he said, causing the nearby onlookers to focus on them. “I don't think it's fair that your son gets to spend the night in a nice, warm bed, when my daughter gets to spend tonight in a cold, dark well. She's in there because of you,” he glared at the boy. “I think you should stay here until she's out.”

“Well, I've got things to do,” said Logan, beginning to walk away.

“What you should be doing is apologising to my daughter!”

“I already said sorry!” Logan crossed his arms.

“You didn't mean it!” Bob almost shrieked. “Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you think you can put your hands on my child? What gives you the right?” Logan was saved by the arrival of Derek, who placed himself in between them.

“That's enough!” he ordered. He turned to Logan, “go on home, kid.” And then he turned to Bob. “Sir, I know you're upset, but you can't do that.”

“But it's his fault my daughter's stuck in a well!” Bob sputtered.

“I know, but right now your family needs you; Louise needs you, so just focus on being there for her, yeah?”

After a few moments, Bob nodded and moved away. But when Derek had turned away, he quickly followed Logan and Cynthia, and he tapped Logan on the shoulder. The teenager turned around and was faced with Bob, who wore an expression of tranquil fury. He put his face close to the boy's.

“If anything happens to my daughter, I will kill you,” he said quietly and calmly.

“Is that a threat?” Logan tried to be casual.

“No; I'm just telling you what I'm going to do to you if anything happens to my child.” Logan scowled and rolled his eyes before walking away.

* * *

Tim and Charlie were still lying by the well. Sheets had been placed over the dry, dusty ground and they were lying on those. Tim had the headphones over his ears and was talking to Louise. So far, he had heard her repeatedly ask for them to get out; she didn't say much else. He noticed that she had stopped answering him a while ago, and he mentioned this to Charlie.

“Is she sleeping?” he asked.

“No, no, she's talking, she's just not answering me. I don't think she can hear us.” Charlie nodded before sitting up and looking around the park, before having an idea.

Louise was fighting to stay awake, even though it was extremely difficult in the pitch black. She was so tired; it was way past her usual bedtime. On the other hand, the cold made it difficult to sleep, not to mention the fact that she was stuck in an upright position with no way of getting comfortable. And the noise, the constant rumbling which sounded like an underground monster clawing and roaring its way to her. Louise sighed; she doubted that she would get any sleep tonight.

She didn't know if anyone was still up there; she couldn't hear anyone. Maybe they'd all gone home.

A slight scraping sound caused her to look up, but she couldn't see anything, but she heard a voice coming from directly next to her, and she jumped slightly. For a moment, she thought it was someone coming to rescue her.

“Hey, Louise,” came the voice of Tim, “we've just put a speaker down there so you can hear us when we talk you.”

“ _Great,”_ she muttered, not really in the mood to talk.

“You doing okay, sweetie?”

“ _It's dark, so dark; I can't see a thing. And it's cold,”_ she revealed. Tim bit his lip.

“Okay, don't worry; we'll find a way to fix that,” he told her. "Hey, Chief!" called Tim, waving his superior over. "She said she's cold, and I was just wondering, how long can she stay down there?"

“Three days is the max, isn't it, if she doesn't have any water?” he said. “But if she's cold, we need to get some warm air down there ASAP. And we'll get a doctor here, just to be on the safe side.” 

Officer George had overheard what they were said, and he decided to present his idea.

"Chief!" He called, approaching them, "I just had an idea; what if we found someone really skinny," he was saying to Davis, as Tim and Charlie listened in, "tie a rope to them, and they can get the kid out."

"I don't know," Davis felt unsure that it would work.

"Chief, they're still drilling the shaft; if we can find the right person, she'll be out of there in a matter of minutes." Now, Davis was leaning more towards the idea.

"I suppose it could work, but we'd have to be sure this person could fit down the well; we don't want them getting stuck, as well."

"It could be done, Chief; we could put out an appeal on TV."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," said Charlie, hoisting himself up onto his elbows.

"Why not?" asked George.

"If we did manage to find someone small enough to fit, we'd have to remove the pipe with the oxygen; by they time they get down to Louise, she could suffocate." George had not thought of that, and that was all they needed to abandon the plan. They were not going to risk it.

* * *

"Excuse me, ma'am," Brian the police officer approached Linda, who did not take her eyes off of the well. "But do you have a picture of your daughter?"

"What?" she still did not look up from the well.

"The media are asking for a picture." Bob turned to look at him.

"You said she would be out of there hours ago! She's been trapped in there for," he quickly checked Teddy's watch again, "more than five hours now, and you've barely even started!" Brian opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Linda.

"I have one in my wallet, but it's at home" she realised. “Teddy, would you mind going and getting my wallet? It's on the table next to my bed.”

“Sure thing, Linda,” said Teddy, before disappearing into the crowd.

“I'll be back in a few minutes, then,” said Brian.

"Lin? What are you doing?" Bob turned to face his wife when Brian had left.

"I'm just co-operating with them."

"We shouldn't need to co-operate with them! They should be working to get our daughter out of the well, not talking to the news!"

"Well, maybe the news story will get more people to show up and help with the digging," Linda reasoned.

"Yeah," said Tina quickly. "The more people that help, the sooner she'll be out, right?" Bob did not answer, returning his eyes over to the well.

"God, this is taking too long!" Gene cried, and Bob placed his arm around his son's shoulders, and Linda did the same to Tina. The four of them stood there silently, staring at the well.

Bob was finding it incredibly hard to believe that that a few hours ago, they had been a relatively normal family living a relatively normal life. Now, Louise was stuck in a well, there were reporters everywhere, and the park had become a flurry of activity; the hydraulic rig, the floodlights, the barriers, the onlookers, the policemen and firefighters; it was crazy.

* * *

Tim and Charlie were still lying next to the well when Richards approached once more, followed by a man in a white coat.

“This is Dr Cabell; he works at the local hospital,” he said, and both Tim and Charlie nodded.

“She said she's cold,” Tim revealed, getting right to it, “and she's been down there for about five hours; should we give her some water or something? We don't want her getting dehydrated. Chief said she can last about three days, is that right?”

"Well, actually, it more depends on the temperature of the well and the extent of internal injuries," said Cabell, moving closer to peer into the well.

"Have you got a thermometer?" Tim asked, and the doctor produced one from his black bag; a string was tied around it and it was lowered down into the well. "Twenty-eight degrees," Tim read aloud after he'd pulled it back up, looking up at the other officers, the rescue workers and Cabell. "So, we've gotta get some heat down there, or we're looking at hypothermia?" and the doctor only nodded; he didn't need to hear the 'or worse' part. Phone calls were hurriedly made and soon enough, a flat-bed truck arrived, carrying an air compressor and several tanks of warm air, which were promptly attached to another hose and lowered down the well. "Listen, do you think we should get her some water, or something?" repeated Tim.

"No, not yet, at least; we don't know if she has any internal injuries, and she might need surgery. If she does, then it's better for her stomach to be empty. Pass me those headphones, and let me listen to her.” Cabell crouched down as Tim passed him the headphones, holding them tightly over his ears. “She's breathing healthily,” he said after a while, passing the headphones back. “That's a good sign. You were right; she can last for about three days before dehydration will become a major problem."

"Well, she won't be in there for that long. Maybe you guys should get some rest," suggested his Chief, looking at the tired men's appearance. Tim glanced over at the shaft,which had still not been halfway completed.

"No, I'll stay here 'til we get her out," he decided, and the Chief saw that there was no dissuading him, so he left.

“Is it true she fell 80 feet?” the doctor, receiving nods from all three men. “It's amazing that she's alive,” he said after a moment's pause.

“What do you mean?” asked Charlie.

“The fall could have killed her,” he said honestly. “If she had free fallen, she would have died from the impact when she landed. Something must have slowed her fall.”

“Well, we'll find out about that when she's out; right now, she's warm, so let's focus on keeping her healthy.”

“Where are the family?” asked Cabell, and Tim pointed the Belchers out, and Cabell walked over to them. “Mr and Mrs Belcher?” he asked, and they nodded. “My name's Steven Cabell, and I'm a doctor at Ocean City Memorial Hospital.” He noticed that Bob and Linda exchanged worried looks, so he quickly continued. “I just wanted to let you know that we've put some warm air down into the well, to help control your daughter's body temperature. I've listened to her, and she sounds okay.”

“Oh, thank God,” said Linda, as Bob wrapped his arms around her.

“However,” the doctor continued, “there is a possibility of organ and/or spinal damage.” Bob and Linda looked horrified, and as before, he continued, “due to the fall and the cave in, it's likely. But the good news is that it can be treated, and she shouldn't suffer any major complications from it.” That seemed to relax them slightly.

“Is she gonna be okay?” asked Linda.

“Well, she's not dehydrated, she's warm, and she's talking, which are all good signs. She appears to be okay, although I don't want to say anything for sure until she's out.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Carol was speaking to the small group of reporters, having received the photo of Louise from Teddy, who was standing nearby holding Linda's wallet.

"Louise is still alive, and she is still communicating with us. We believe we'll have her out soon," said Carol, holding up the photograph of Louise to the cameras. “She's still being given oxygen. Everything is under control,” she added. “And if we need any more assistance, we will let you know right away.”

When she had finished, she returned the photo to Linda, and glanced over at the children; Gene was slouching and Tina could barely keep her eyes open. "Sir, maybe you and your family should go home and rest for a while; the children look tired." The look she received from Bob was enough to make her want to take a step backwards, but she held her stance.

"I'm staying right here until Louise is out. I can't leave her.”

"Sir, we cannot say for certain how long it will be until we can get your daughter. The rock is much harder than we anticipated."

"Yeah, you've been saying this all day."

"Now, Bob, they have been working non-stop -" Teddy tried to calm his friend down but he was only fuelling the fire.

"They're not working hard enough!" he snapped. "If they were, Louise would be out of there by now!" He turned back to Carol. "Don't you realise my daughter's in there?!"

“Sir, we are going as fast as we can. We will get her out. But I still think you should take the children home, and get some rest yourselves.”

“What? I don't wanna leave,” said Linda, even though it was 11:45pm, the kids were chilly and tired, and it was dark, “but I'll take the kids home and come right back.”

“What? No!” said Tina. “I wanna stay here, too!”

“And me!” cried Gene.

The crowd had all but gone; it was mainly a few local reporters, some teenagers, and a few curious adults getting one last look before they went home.

“Gene, Tina, you guys need to get some sleep,” said Bob. They opened their mouths to protest, but he cut them off. “No, you do. So, in a little while, we'll take you home, okay? We'll stay here a little while longer.”

* * *

Louise was doing everything possible to stay awake. It was harder now that it was warm. She kept forcing her eyes to open as wide as they could, and biting her lip, but it wasn't working.

She rested the back of her head against the well wall, but almost immediately moved back. That was one easy away to fall asleep, and she needed to stay awake.

Louise heard some faint scraping sounds coming from the speaker and looked up. To her surprise, she could see daylight, and she was pleased that she had managed to stay awake all night. The light seemed to be getting closer, and the voice of Tim crackled through the speaker.

“Louise, we're lowering a light down to you, okay? Louise, can you hear me?”

“ _I can hear you,”_ she muttered sleepily, screwing up her face with exhaustion, and closing her tired eyes. _“Want my daddy,”_ she mumbled so quietly that the microphone couldn't pick it up.

The light coming level with her face forced her to open her eyes. It was a welcome sight, even though all she could see was faded, dusty brick, it was nice to be able to see something. The light was next to the speaker, which had the cable duct-taped to it so that it wouldn't come loose, and the microphone was just above her head. The oxygen hose was on her left, and the hose giving warm air was opposite her. It made the little well seem even more cramped.

Louise knew fighting was hopeless; she was going to have to sleep sooner or later, and her head lolled onto her shoulder. _“Want my daddy,”_ she repeated, not really aware of what she was saying.

“What's that, honey?” came Tim's voice.

“ _Want my dad, and my mommy – mom,”_ said Louise, looking up once again as if she would be able to see them.

Tim got onto his knees and waved Bob and Linda over.

“She wants to talk to you,” he said, moving aside. The Belcher parents knelt down by the well, and Linda took the microphone. Bob picked up the headphones and held them between him and his wife so that they could both hear her.

“Louise? Louise, sweetie, it's Mommy.”

“ _Hi, mom,”_ came her daughter's voice. She had to admit, that hearing her parents' voices was comforting to her. It was nice to know they were still there.

“How you doing, baby?” asked Linda.

“ _Want to get ooouuut,”_ she said, a whiny undertone to her voice. Bob knew that voice; she was tired, and when Louise got tired, she got real cranky and grumpy.

“I know you do, and we're getting you out. Can you hear the drilling?”

“ _... yes,”_ came her huffy voice.

“Well, that's what they're using to get to you; they're gonna carry on until they get you out.”

“ _But, Mooom, I wanna get out noooow!”_ Louise couldn't stop herself from whining, and she closed her eyes and gently threw her head back against the wall. She felt tears welling up, and she furiously blinked them away.

“I know, sweetie, I know,” there wasn't much else they could say to her. Linda bit her lip as Louise whined. She wasn't speaking, just making one long continuous whine. “Aw, my poor baby,” she said, before she had an idea. “Louise?” she called. “ _Girl,_ _it's freaky_ , _my heart is weaky._ ” she sang, and the whining from below came to a slow stop. Both parents heard it, and Bob joined his wife, gesturing for Gene and Tina to come over. “ _My teeth are extra sharp, my body's extra hairy. I'm running in the dark, I love you so much, it's scary._ ”

Down in the well, Louise recognised the song, and despite everything, a little smile crossed her face.

 _“_ _Girl, it's freaky,”_ she sang softly. She did not have the energy to pretend not to care about Boyz for Now and Boo Boo. _“You trick or treat me. My teeth are extra sharp, my body's extra hairy...”_

Bob heard her singing, and he smiled. Linda held the headphones closer to her ear and heard it as well. She couldn't help smiling.

“Don't worry, Louise!” called Gene into the microphone. “It won't be long!”

“ _Gene?”_ Louise sounded confused.

“Yeah, it's me. Tina's here, too.”

“Hi, Louise,” said Tina, not really knowing what to say.

“ _Hey, T.”_

“Louise, try and get some sleep,” called Bob, knowing that she would wake up when they reached her.

“ _Don't want to,”_ she moaned. _“I wanna get out!”_

“Louise, if you sleep, the time will pass quicker. Like Christmas Eve,” said Bob.

“ _I don't want the time to pass quicker; I want them to get me out now!”_ Bob sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. He knew what she was like.

“Louise, I can't make the time go quicker; I wish I could. We're going as fast as we can.”

“ _You're not going fast enough!”_ Bob knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with her when she was like this.

“We're trying, okay? It won't be long,” Bob told her. Linda tapped him on the shoulder. He could see tears in her eyes.

“Bobby, I'm gonna take the kids home and put them to bed; I won't be long,” she said. Bob nodded, and gave Gene and Tina a kiss on the cheek, along with a hug, before they left. Teddy crouched down beside him.

“How's she doin', Bobby?” he asked, looking down into the well.

“She's tired. She won't sleep,” said Bob, shaking his head slightly.

“Poor kid; I can't say I blame her.”

“Yeah. Oh, God, I hope they get her out soon.”

“They will, Bobby,” Teddy placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

* * *

Meanwhile, Linda, accompanied by Mort, had taken Gene and Tina home, much to their dismay.

“But, Mom, we want to see her get out!” Gene protested.

“Yeah, and we can stay up late; it's Friday,” Tina couldn't conceal her yawn, though she tried valiantly.

“You have stayed up late; it's after midnight,” Linda told them, unlocking the front door, and ushering them up the stairs.

“But she'll be out soon, and we wanna see it happen,” said Gene, standing in the hallway.

“Listen, kids, you need to get some sleep. When they get over to her, I'll come and get you, I promise, okay?” After a moment, both children silently nodded. “Don't worry, this'll all be over soon. Now, go get ready for bed.” When Gene and Tina had gone to their respective rooms, Linda turned to Mort. “It was sweet of you to walk us home, Mort.”

“It's no problem,” he smiled. “Now, you get on back to Louise.”

“Huh?” Linda looked confused.

“I'm staying here to watch the kids tonight,” he explained and Linda's jaw dropped.

“Oh, Mort, no! I can't ask you to do that!”

“You didn't ask; I offered. Besides, it's only for tonight; Louise will be outta there soon.” Linda flew at him and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you! Thank you!” Mort looked a little relieved when she let him go.

“It's no problem,” he repeated. Linda smiled at him, before heading to Gene's room.

“Goodnight, Gene,” she cooed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Genie weenie, my perfect little beanie.”

“Goodnight, Mom, promise to come back the second they reach Louise,” said Gene in one breath, sitting up in bed.

“I will; you just get some sleep. Lie down, sweetie,” she said, and Gene slowly complied.

“How long will it be until they reach her?” he asked, pulling the covers up to his chin.

“Not long,” she told him, although she was unsure of just how long. “But this will be over before morning.” She kissed him on the forehead, and left the room, switching the light off as she did so.

In Tina's room, she found her eldest daughter sitting up in bed, writing in her diary. “That's enough for tonight, Tina,” she said, sitting on the bed.

“But, Mom...” Tina began.

“No buts, Tina. You need to get some sleep.” Tina nodded and lay down against her pillows, placing the diary in her bedside table drawer.

“Mom, do you think Louise is okay?” she asked, her voice small.

“She's fine,” Linda reassured her. “She's got heat and light, and a group of people working to get her out.”

“I can't wait to see her.”

“Me, too. Now, go to sleep, sweetie,” Linda kissed Tina as well, and left the room.

She couldn't help stepping into Louise's room and looked around. Everything was pin neat; Louise always had to have everything in a certain place. Even her bunny slippers were always placed in the corner of her room.

Linda felt an overwhelming rush of sadness overcome her. Louise should be asleep in her bed, but instead, she was trapped 80 feet below ground. She would never forgive Logan for this.

Linda walked over to the shelf, and picked up Kuchi Kopi, feeling tears welling up. How was Louise going to sleep without him? “Thanks, again, Mort!” Linda yelled as she threw a coat over her shoulders, with Bob's coat tucked under one arm.

“That's o-” he began, but the door had slammed and Linda was gone.

* * *

Bob and Teddy were still sat by the well, fighting off sleep.

The crowd had disappeared; only the rescue team, plus Olsen and Ed, remained. They were standing just in front of the barriers, silently watching the rig dig into the ground. Tim and Charlie had moved away from the well, and were talking with the little group of firefighters, who were in a group a few feet behind the rig. Richards and Davis were still there, as well, standing not too far from the well, and talking quietly. Dr Cabell was the closest, as he was monitoring and maintaining the amount of oxygen and warm air being put into the well.

Louise had been silent for the past twenty minutes, which was unnerving, but Tim and Charlie had said she was asleep, which Bob took as a good sign.

“Bob! Bobby!” cried Linda, running up to him, and he stood up to hug her. “How far have they gotten?” she asked, resuming her position at the wellhead, and handing him his coat, for the night was chilly.

“They're almost a quarter done with the tunnel,” he told her, and she nodded, looking tense. “Are the kids okay?”

“Mort's watching them. So, just a few more hours, then?” she asked, a hopeful tone to her voice.

“Let's hope so,” said Bob, looking down into the well.

“How's she doin'?”

“She's sleeping,” Bob told her. “We – we should probably try and get some sleep, too.”

“I don't wanna sleep,” Linda almost wailed. “I wanna be awake in case she wakes up, and I wanna be awake when they get her out.”

“Gee, guys, I don't wanna be the one to say it,” began Teddy, “but I don't think they're gonna get her out tonight.” Linda fixed him with a steely look and he hurriedly continued. “They haven't even finished digging the tunnel; I think she'll be outta there by tomorrow.”

“No! Louise is not spending the night in the well! She can't!” Bob looked horrified. “She's down there, all alone.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Linda pulled something green and familiar from her pocket.

“Kuchi Kopi,” Bob took Louise's treasured night light, holding it.

“Yeah, I thought we could put it down there with her,” said Linda. “I didn't think she'd be able to sleep without him.”

“Well, we could still put it down there,” said Bob. “At least, it might give her some comfort.” At Linda's nod, he got Richards' attention and waved him over. “We want to put this down there,” he held up Kuchi Kopi. “It's her favourite toy.” He couldn't help smiling at the little night light. Louise still had her original melted Kuchi, but she loved this one just as much.

“Okay, sure,” Richards could see no problem with that, and so he got the attention of Patrick. “Go and get some string or cable.”

When Patrick had brought the appropriate item, the thin cable was attached to Kuchi Kopi, and Linda switched on the night light before it was lowered down the well.

“At least that'll be nice for her to wake up to,” she said.

Unbeknownst to them, Louise was still awake, but just barely. She was so tired; she didn't know how long she was going to be able to stay awake for. She was really struggling and kept yawning. She couldn't hear anything except for the rumbling of the drilling machine, and faint voices coming through the speaker.

A new and different light source caused her to look up, and her tired face lit up in delight.

“ _Kuchi Kopi!”_ she grinned. _“How did you get down here?”_ The night light continued to be lowered until it was resting on the rubble, at her chest level. She couldn't hold him, or even touch him, but just seeing him was a great deal of comfort. _“I'm glad you're here, Kuchi,”_ she told him, fighting back a yawn.

At ground level, Bob heard Louise talking to her toy.

“Oh, God, I think we woke her up,” he groaned.

“She'll go back to sleep,” Richards assured him. “Maybe you should go home, and get some sleep as well,” he suggested gently, taking in their tired and stressed faces.

“No!” said Linda. “No, I wanna stay here with my baby!” Richards, seeing that there was no persuading them, only nodded and left. “I just can't believe this has happened,” Linda looked down into the well, shaking her head.

"Neither can I," Bob admitted. "I feel so helpless."

"How could I have let this happen? What kind of mother am I?"

"You didn't, though. You didn't know this was gonna happen. If anything, it's my fault; I told her to go out."

"You couldn't have known, either." Her face hardened. “The only one to blame is Logan; he pushed her in.”

“You're right!” Bob wrapped his arms around her. “Don't worry; he'll pay.” He looked down at his wife as she started to cry.

"Oh, God, I'm so scared, Bobby," Linda whispered, clutching her husband's shirt tightly and looking into his eyes. "I'm scared for her; I love her so much! She's my little baby girl! She could really die down there; what if she does? What are we going to do?" That was the first time the possibility of death had been brought up, but not the first time that it had crossed their minds. It was not pleasant to think about.

"She's not going to die," Bob told her firmly. "Louise is too tough; she's going to be fine." But Linda was sobbing. The nearby workers were looking over at them, but they tactfully remained where they were.

"I never told her how much I love her!"

"She knows, of course she knows. She's going to be alright,” Bob repeated firmly. Even if Linda didn't want to listen, he still had to say it; it made it seem like everything would be okay.

"Oh, Bobby, my poor baby is stuck down a well, and we can't do anything about it. If anything happens to her, I'll never forgive myself! God, I wish it was me down there!" Bob wrapped his arms around Linda and they remained that way until they both eventually fell asleep, curled up together at the side of the well where their little girl was trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's the first chapter done. What did you think of it? I know it's a bit long, but I wanted to try and convey the helplessness that the family are feeling; I really wanted to try and delve into it.  
> For the longest time, this story was actually called "The Louise Belcher Story," but a few days ago, inspiration struck: "A Cry in the Park"! I might title it as "A Cry in the Park: The Louise Belcher Story," but I'd like to know your opinions.  
> Also, I'd just like to make it clear that I've only been watching the show for less than six months now (I know; I'm terrible!) therefore, character like Gretchen, Aunt Gayle, Mr. Fischoeder and Edith and Harold won't be making appearances. I simply feel that I don't know them that well, and I wouldn't be able to write them correctly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! As promised, here is the next chapter. I hope you like it.
> 
> Disclaimer: "Bob's Burgers" and all the characters belong to Loren Bouchard.

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 2

After several hours' sleep, Linda awoke once more. She was lying on Bob, whose head was next to the well. Sitting up silently, she stretched and looked around her. The sun had risen and early morning daylight flooded the park, shining in between the trees. The rig was still drilling, and there was now a canteen truck in the park, a few feet away from the ambulance. Most of the rescue personnel were sleeping, scattered about the area, using their jackets as blankets, with empty polystyrene cups surrounding them. There were more of them, she noted, looking at their hi-vis jackets, and she realised they must be more drillers.

Only Davis, Richards, Tim and Charlie were still awake; despite the tiredness in their eyes, they looked happy at the way the rescue operation was going.

Tim and Charlie had moved back to the well after Bob and Linda had fallen asleep. They had slept in shifts that previous night; one would sleep for a few hours, while the other listened to and comforted Louise; the girl had dropped off shortly after 4am.

Olsen Benner and Ed had filmed until gone 1am the night before and, after phoning her boss, Nathan, with the latest updates, they had gone home for the night, arriving back at 7am to resume filming. As Ed positioned the camera on his shoulder, Olsen noticed that a few other reporters had shown up. Due to all of the equipment in the park, they had pressed themselves up behind the barriers and some of the more nosey residents had returned to watch the scenes unfold.

"Louise?" Linda called, taking the headphones Tim offered her and placing them over her ears. "It's Mommy. Can you hear me?" Her only answer was silence. "Louise? Answer me!" she called, getting worried.

"She's probably sleeping, ma'am," said Tim, smiling comfortingly at her.

"No, she can't sleep! Because if she sleeps, then we can't hear her, and if we can't hear her, we -" she paused to gather herself, inhaling deeply. "I need to know she's still alive," she said desperately, trying not to cry. Tim nodded understandingly and they both began calling to Louise, not stopping until they heard her grumpy, tired voice. "Oh, thank God!" Linda cried, placing her hand over her pounding heart. "Louise, baby, we're coming to get you, just hang on, okay?" Their shouting had woken Bob and Teddy, both of whom sat up, rubbing their eyes.

"A small mini-camera is on its' way right now," Tim told her. "We're gonna try and use that to see if we can see her."

"Thank you," said Linda gratefully. "How far have they gotten?" The smile on Tim's face dropped slightly.

"They're still digging the tunnel; we're more than halfway done.”

"What time is it?" Tim glanced at his watch.

"Eight o'clock, ma'am," he said and Linda's face fell.

"She's been in there for around twelve hours," she said worriedly.

"I'm sure she's fine, ma'am," said Charlie comfortingly, but Linda didn't look all that comforted.

“MOM! MOM!” Bob and Linda turned around, only to be greeted with bone-cracking hugs from Gene and Tina.

“Mom, where is she, it's been all night! You didn't come and get us! Where is she?” cried Tina, with Gene pretty much saying the same thing.

“She's not out yet,” said Bob, and Gene gripped him harder.

“But.. they said she would be,” he said, unable to comprehend why Louise was still in the well.

“I know, I know they did, but they're working on it,” he said, getting to his feet, which was difficult with his son wrapped around his waist. The children swapped over and hugged the other parents, when Mort finally approached, panting slightly.

“I'm sorry, Linda,” he gasped for breath. “As soon as they woke up, they were dressed and they ran down here. I couldn't stop them.”

“That's alright,” Linda forced herself to smile. “Thanks again for watching them.”

“That's okay.” He joined the Belchers, and Teddy, and they watched as the spiral bit continued to drill.

All too soon, Bob became aware of reporters; they had pushed their way to the front of the police barriers and were calling out to the Belchers'.

Each one of them had heard about the story and were competing to be the first to get an exclusive interview. A nine-year-old girl who had been pushed into a well, and was buried 80 feet down made for a very interesting story and soon reporters were turning up by the droves with cameras, each trying to get a look at this most unusual and interesting case.

Carol entered the park and smiled comfortingly at the family, before heading over to talk to Davis.

"Hey, kids, aren't those your friends?" Bob nodded over toward the barriers and Tina looked over and saw Regular-sized Rudy, Andy, Ollie, Jimmy Jr, Zeke, Darryl, and Pocket-sized Rudy on the other side of the police barrier. Tina and Gene didn't move. "Why don't you go over there and talk to them?" Bob suggested as a way of getting Tina to unstick herself from him, and he would be able to breathe. Tina, feeling as though her legs were rooted to the spot, slowly made her way over to the kids, followed by Gene.

"Hey, guys," she said as casually as she could, trying to ignore the reporter that had wormed his way over.

"She's still down there, huh?" asked Regular-sized Rudy, peering over Tina's shoulder, but unable to see anything due to all of the rescue workers surrounding the well.

"...Yeah," Gene said.

"It's all over the newspapers," said Regular-sized Rudy, holding out the morning edition of the paper to Tina, who took it and quickly flipped through it, with Gene looking over her shoulder. Louise's story was on page five. The article was accompanied by the picture of Louise that their mother had given to Carol, along with another photo of her and her family standing near the well, watching and waiting.

_'A nine-year-old girl escaped fatal injury after falling eighty feet down a water well Friday evening._

_By midnight, the girl, Louise Belcher, remained trapped in the narrow well, no more than 14 inches wide, located in Wharf Park, as local police and firemen fight to free her. It was revealed that she was pushed in by an unnamed teenage boy, who returned to the scene and apologised to her. It is not yet known why he pushed her._

_Rescue workers were able to hear the girl after lowering a microphone down to her after rescue operations began later in the evening._

_"She's very far down, but we can still hear her," said Deputy Police Chief Jack Davis._

_A failed rescue attempt shortly after Louise fell in, which consisted of a schoolmate being lowered into the well was unsuccessful, as he was unable to be suspended upside down for so long. Louise is also buried up to her chest in rubble, which means that she cannot move her arms, so rescuers have to dig down to her._

_The machine, a rotary drilling rig, is digging a parallel tunnel six feet away from the well; the plan is to dig over to the well and extract the child, as the well is too narrow for an adult to enter._

_Oxygen and warm air are being constantly pumped into the well to ensure that Louise has fresh air to breathe, and to also help control her body temperature._

_So far, the girl's family have remained near the well, but in seclusion ever since police arrived._

_"They're kinda in shock, I think. You can't really imagine this happening to someone you know," said neighbour, Jimmy Pesto.'_

Tina closed the paper and silently gave it back to Rudy.

“Is it true she was pushed?” asked Zeke, and Tina nodded.

“Logan did it,” she revealed, and their jaws' dropped.

“That kid who worked in your restaurant?” asked Jimmy Jr. “But why?”

“He wanted to get revenge for when she threw a rotten cantaloupe, and it landed on him,” said Gene, and the little group looked confused.

“She did that on purpose?” asked Zeke, and Gene shook his head.

“No; she didn't know he was there.”

“So he pushed her into a well? Jeeze, what a jerk,” said Jimmy Jr.

"When will they get her out?" asked Regular-sized Rudy. They were genuinely curious; like many others, they had never seen anything like this before.

"I don't know," repeated Tina, before looking over at the well. "They keep telling us a few more hours. They're still digging the tunnel; I don't know how long it'll take to dig across," and she didn't know, not exactly, but she definitely knew that it would take a while. But she didn't like to think about it, so they bade goodbye to their friends and returned to their family. They had timed it well, for Davis was beckoning them all over to him.

"We're lowering the camera down the well," he told them, "and the images are going to be seen on the news truck over here," he led them to where a white news van was parked a few feet away, a satellite dish on the roof, its sliding door wide open, revealing all of the electrical equipment inside. In amongst all of the wires, dials, buttons and phones, there was a decent-sized screen in the top corner, which they gathered around, ignoring the shouts of the reporters and onlookers.

The miniature camera, with a small light attached to it, was already being lowered down the well; down, down down, before finally settling about a foot above the spot where Louise was. Her pink bunny ears were instantly visible, and Linda gasped. They were moving.

"There she is! That's Louise!" Bob ran back to the well and started talking to Louise. Linda felt her eyes well up when she heard Bob's faint voice and Louise looked up at the well opening. They could see her face. The image was slightly blurry, but they were able to make out her features. As far as they could tell, she had a few scrapes and bruises on her face, but otherwise she looked fine, which was such a relief.

Louise continued to look up, and they could faintly hear her talking to her father, complaining that she was still trapped.

Being able to actually see her was a load off Linda's mind; it made everything a little bit easier to deal with.

Gene and Tina were staring at the image of their sister as well.

“How did Kuchi Kopi get down there?” asked Gene, recognising the toy.

“We put him down there last night,” said Linda, as Louise looked up again, her features creased in annoyance. “Thought she'd need him.”

Bob and Linda kept alternating between the well and the truck, between hearing Louise and seeing her. Usually, one parent would be at the well, talking to their daughter, while the other would be watching the images, and then they would swap over. Despite the constant drilling, the vibrations were not close enough to bother the camera; however, as the rescue team got closer, the quivering might render the camera useless.

More and more residents turned up, wanting to watch the rescue efforts. The people who had arrived early, got the best view, as they were at the front, where the barriers were. The schoolkids eventually sat cross-legged on the grassy ground, and chatted as the rescue proceeded.

The reporters, of course, were doing everything they could to remain at the front, so they could get the best pictures. The Belchers were beginning to get used to the constant shouting; they were learning how to block it out, and they continued to ignore them as they watched the rescue efforts.

The crowd of onlookers couldn't help but feel sorry for the Belchers'; one only had to take one look at their distraught, worried faces to see how much this was affecting them. Even Jimmy Pesto couldn't bring himself to taunt Bob.

The children remained on the grassy field behind the barriers, watching the rescue unfold, and chatting amongst themselves. They were fascinated by what they were seeing. It seemed so surreal; the park was crammed with people, most of them surrounding the well. There were two policemen lying on their stomachs next to it, with a few more people standing by them; a large drilling rig was plunging into the ground, digging into the solid rock, its boom extending several feet into the air; there were floodlights everywhere; an ambulance was parked some thirty feet away from the well, its doors wide open; benches had been ripped down and barriers had been set up around the park; mostly reporters were stood behind them, as well as the crowd of curious onlookers. It was like something out of a film.

“Do you think they'll get her out today?” asked Regular-sized Rudy, pulling his inhaler from his pocket and pumping it.

“Well, once they dig down, it shouldn't take them too long to dig over, should it?” said Zeke.

“But how long will it take to dig down?” asked Pocket-sized Rudy, but no one answered him, because they didn't know.

For those residents who had not yet heard of the story, they were soon informed when they switched over to the local news station that morning. Homes, places of business, cafes, and other such places that housed televisions were greeted with images of the drilling rig digging deep into the earth, with a young man reporting from behind his desk inside the studio.

“ _And, finally, a young girl remains trapped in an abandoned water well despite continuous efforts to free her. Nine-year-old Louise Belcher was pushed into the narrow well in Wharf Park at around 6pm on Friday. Authorities say she may not be freed until later this evening. Reporter Olsen Benner is live at the scene. Olsen?"_

The scene then cut to the Wharf Park, where Olsen was standing near the well.

 _"Thank you, Max. Yes, the rescue workers are still digging, but, uh, they are making progress literally by inches. Louise has been trapped for almost eighteen hours, and she's still alive and communicating with us. We are still able to hear her; she's continued to respond to the voices of her family, and the personnel. They are also still giving her oxygen and warm air to keep her alert."_ At this point, the camera panned down to the well, and jaws would drop.

Hearing reports that a little girl was not only trapped in a well, but she had been pushed in, was enough for the story to reach far and wide, tugging the heartstrings of many parents.

* * *

Of course, Logan could not care less about what was happening. He had apologised; he'd done his part, and he was continuing with his life.

That morning, Cynthia drove him to his karate lesson, and everything appeared to be fine. But inside the lobby, there was a flat-screen television mounted on the wall, which was tuned to the local news. On the television was clips of the rescue effort, and he rolled his eyes again.

“Hey, guys,” he said, as he entered the main hall, where the rest of his group were already in their uniforms, and a few of them mumbled greetings in return. “What's up?” he noticed that a few of them were staring at him.

“Some kid's stuck in a well,” said Jason, whom he didn't know that well.

“Oh, yeah, I heard about that,” Logan quickly pulled on his uniform before the sensei arrived.

“She was pushed,” revealed Jason, and Logan froze.

“Yeah?” he tried to act casual.

“People are saying that you pushed her. Did you?” asked Rick, and Logan scowled.

“It was an accident!” he snapped. “It's not like I threw her in!”

“So, you did push her?” asked Jason. “Why?”

“You don't know her; she's an evil, manipulative little brat! She's a psycho! She hired a biker gang to cut off my ears!” None of the group said anything, but he could tell by the looks on their faces, that they didn't believe him.

However, at that moment, the sensei arrived, and so they focused their attention on him.

When Cynthia came to pick him up an hour later, Logan had a face like thunder, and he threw his bag into the car, before climbing into the passenger seat, and slamming the door.

“What is it, sweetie?” she asked, starting the car.

“Just everyone saying, ' _oh, my God, you pushed a little girl into a well, you're a terrible person, you suck!'_ ” Logan snapped, folding his arms and scowling.

“Is that what people have been saying to you?” said Cynthia, and Logan nodded, huffing. “I can't believe it! You don't deserve that; it was an accident!”

“That's what I said! But no one believes me! I even told them about the biker gang, and they don't believe that either!”

“Well, don't you worry,” Cynthia's eyes were blazing. “When we get home, I'm gonna make a phone call.”

Sure enough, when they arrived home, Cynthia immediately picked up the phone, while Logan grabbed his skateboard and headed out. “Hello, Channel 6 news?” she inquired. “Yes, I'd like to speak to someone about Louise Belcher.”

“ _Yes, ma'am. What is it regarding?”_

“Well, my son is the one who accidentally pushed her, and I think people would be very interested to know that she once hired a biker gang to cut off my son's ears, and I'd like to arrange for a television interview to talk about her, and set the record straight,” said Cynthia.

“ _I'll see what I can do, ma'am. I'll be in contact with you shortly.”_

“Thank you,” Cynthia hung up the phone and smiled to herself.

* * *

Back at the well, Tim and Charlie, along with Davis, were talking with Cabell about lowering some water down to Louise, as they were growing concerned about dehydration. The tunnel was still being dug, and so Cabell was backtracking on his previous comments about not letting Louise eat or drink in case she needed surgery; at this point, they were more concerned with keeping her alive.

"I don't know how we'd manage it," Davis was saying. "She can only lift her head, how will she be able to drink?"

"We'll fill a baby bottle, and lower it upside down, and she'll be able to drink from it that way," said Cabell.

"It's worth a try," admitted Davis. "Alright, we'll do it," he called over one of his officers and ordered him to find a baby bottle. Once said bottle had been found and brought to the rescue site, it was filled with sugar water and the water line was marked with a pen. A string was tied around it, and it was lowered, upside down, down the well.

Bob, Linda, Tina, Gene, and Teddy were once again watching the images on the screen in the back of the news truck, and after a while, the bottle came into view. From across the way, Tim could be heard calling to Louise, telling her about the water. Louise looked up, and a small smile crossed her face once she saw the water.

Being unable to move her arms, Louise opened her mouth and leaned forward as much as she could, hoping to grasp the bottle in her mouth. It wasn't yet far down enough.

“ _More, more!”_ came her faint little voice. _“Down a bit more!”_ the bottle continued to be lowered, and she closed her mouth around the teat. _“I got it!”_ she announced, her voice slightly muffled, before she began to drink. It was like heaven.

The Belchers' couldn't help but smile; Louise was still going strong, and the sugar water would keep her energy levels up. They started to feel that maybe everything was going to be okay.

* * *

A small group of reporters were gathered outside the Bush family home. Cynthia and Logan were stood on the porch, with a media representative standing next to them. In front of them was a television camera.

“My name is Logan Bush,” said the teen after being given the cue, “and I would like to apologise for pushing Louise Belcher into the well,” he fought to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “I didn't know the well was there, and I didn't know she would fall in.”

“People have been implying that Logan did this on purpose,” said Cynthia, “but I know my son, and he's a good kid. He wouldn't do something like this.”

“But what made you push her?” asked a reporter.

“Well, a while ago, she threw a rotten cantaloupe on me,” he said, “and she didn't apologise for that.”

“Did she do that deliberately?” asked a different reporter, and Logan squirmed slightly.

“Well... she didn't say sorry...” he began.

“Louise is a difficult child,” said Cynthia, desperate to get their side of the story across. “She goes out of her way to antagonise my son. She actually hired a biker gang to cut off Logan's ears.”

The reporters, along with the neighbours' that had gathered, began to mutter amongst themselves.

“And why would she do that?” And Cynthia hesitated, before deciding to tell the truth. She figured it would be better for them.

“Well, he did steal her hat,” she admitted. “But I think trying to cut someone's ears off over that is an overreaction. I think Louise is a dangerous little girl.”

“So, she apparently hired bikers to cut off your son's ears? Did you press charges?”

“Well, no. See, one of them went into labour, so we were a little focused on that, and we forgot. The point is, my son is being victimised for this, and it was an accident. He didn't mean to do it.”

* * *

The Belchers' remained near the well, watching and waiting. None of them spoke; instead they stared silently at the well, which was still surrounded by policemen, firefighters and rescue workers. The bottle had come up a few minutes previous, completely empty.

Reporters remained behind the police barriers, as did the onlookers and Gene vaguely recognised some kids from school that he knew by sight. He did not go over to talk to them.

Dr Cabell remained near the well, helping to monitor the amount of oxygen and warm air being pumped into the well, with the help of the two paramedics, replacing the tanks whenever they ran out, and occasionally listening to Louise through the headphones, and according to him, the girl did not appear to be seriously injured, although "there will be no clear way to tell until she's out," he'd said. He was very adamant about not giving her anything to eat, and he told Tim and Charlie why when they'd asked.

“Because she could have internal injuries,” he said, when Charlie had mentioned lowering some food down to Louise. “I don't want to risk it; she could die. The sugar water will be fine for her.”

"Bob?" came a familiar voice and Bob raised her head to see his father standing behind the barriers.

“Oh, my God,” he muttered, before walking over to him.

"I just can't believe it," said Big Bob, pulling his son into a hug. "She's really down there?" she asked, looking over his son's shoulder at the well. Bob could only nod and his father pulled him into another hug. "I'm sure she'll be fine," he soothed, placing his hand on Bob's shoulder.

"How - how did you know about this?" Bob, of course, had been so preoccupied with Louise that, although he'd noticed the reporters gathering around the park, he hadn't made the link between them and the large crowd. The only thing that mattered to him was getting Louise out of the well.

"It's all over the news," Big Bob told him, glancing around and spying some reporters filming the ongoing efforts. "I read about it in the paper, and then I saw it on TV this morning, and I had to come and see for myself." He saw the anguish in his son's eyes. "Oh, Bob, she's going to be fine," he assured him.

“I know she will. They're gonna get her out; it'll be just a few more hours.” It had become almost a mantra for him and Linda; the only thing that kept them going was believing that Louise would soon be rescued.

"That's right," was all the man found he could say. For a while, both of them watched the drilling rig in silence, before Big Bob spoke again. “So, are they just leaving her down there deliberately?”

“What?” Bob turned to face his father.

“I mean, are they taking their sweet time just because? How long has she been down there? Since yesterday?”

“..Yeah.”

“So, why isn't she out yet?”

“They – they've been working non-stop,” said Bob, much to his surprise. “They haven't stopped since she fell in.”

“Well, yeah, I know, but I'm just asking what's taking so long.”

“The rock is really thick,” said Bob through gritted teeth.

“What, so thick that they're still digging this tunnel?”

“Oh, my God,” Bob muttered under his breath. “Pop, I know you're worried,” he fought to keep his voice even, “but trust me when I say that they're doing everything they can.” Big Bob opened his mouth to retort, but saw the look on his son's face, and closed it again. He placed an arm around Little Bob's shoulders, with Bob doing the same.

Big Bob stayed for around thirty minutes before he had to get back to his restaurant, “but I'll be back this evening,” he'd said before he left. “I wanna see her come up.”

“That was nice of him to come and see you,” said Linda when Bob returned, and Bob only nodded in reply.

"Should we call Grandma and Grandpa?" Tina asked, all of a sudden remembering them.

"What?" said Linda.

"I think they should know what's going on."

"Oh, honey... If we call, they're gonna want to come down here; I don't wanna worry them if Louise is going to get out soon."

"Mom, they deserve to know what's happening. I'd want to know."

"You know, honey, she does have a point," said Bob, and Linda looked back over at the well.

"We'll give it one more hour; if she's not out by then, then we'll tell them to come. It can't take them that long, right?"

He checked Teddy's watch; it was almost 1pm, which meant that Louise had been in the well for almost 19 hours, he realised that his children hadn't eaten, and neither had he or his wife.

“Well, we should probably go home and have something to eat,” he said, his voice strangely monotonous.

“Or we could have food brought here?” suggested Gene, and Linda found herself nodding.

“That's an idea; we wouldn't have to leave.”

“Okay, fine,” said Bob. “I'll see what I can do.”

“Or, there's a food truck over there,” said Tina, looking over the truck, which was distributing sandwiches and hot and cold drinks to the volunteers. “We could just go there.”

“Well, alright, then,” said Linda. “But just for a snack; you need to have proper meals.”

As Gene and Tina wandered off towards the food truck, Davis and Carol approached them.

"Mr and Mrs Belcher," he began. "It's time for you to make a statement to the press."

"What?" said Linda. "Why?"

"Well, this is becoming a high interest story, and the reporters would like to talk to you."

"Really?" asked Bob.

"Yes, and it is completely your choice." 

"I would recommend that you speak to them," said Carol. "They can be ruthless if they don't get what they want."

"How do you mean?" asked Teddy.

"Well, if you refuse to talk to them, then you virtually have no control over what they say; I knew a journalist and she told me that they actually have stolen private information, because it's in the 'public interest.'"

"That's awful!" Linda gasped.

"But it can be a good thing," interjected Davis. "This story is starting to gain a bit of interest; they're willing to pay you.”

"We're not going to make money off our daughter's misery!" Bob snapped, outraged that he could even think that they would consider selling their story.

"Oh, I know that, sir," said Davis quickly, not wanting to incur Bob's wrath again. "I was just saying that people want to know what's happening, and they want to hear from the family." He then left, leaving the family to confer with each other.

"So, should we talk to them?" asked Gene, having returned with some sandwiches and a Coke.

"Well, if it draws attention, maybe more people will come to help," said Bob thoughtfully.

"Maybe it will prevent this from happening again; if someone else has a well they know about, they can cover it," Tina suggested.

"I think we should do it," said Gene, and for the longest time, Linda was silent.

"Alright," she finally agreed. "Who's going to give it?"

"I'll do it," Bob volunteered. "I'll do it; it's the only thing I can do to help." Linda only nodded understandingly.

The couple made their way away from the well, followed by Davis and Carol to prepare the statement, which would be read aloud at a conference shortly.

"This is big," said Tina quietly, looking around properly at the park. It wasn't quite a media circus, but there were still a lot of local reporters and she could see someone filming them. Looking up, she even saw a photographer standing on a tall ladder, taking bird's eye view photos of the rescue efforts below.

“Yeah, it's crazy to think it's even happening,” said Gene.

“Right, kids, stay here with me out of the way until they're done with the statement,” said Teddy, standing near the children, and putting his arms around them.

About thirty minutes later, Bob and Linda, accompanied by both Richards and Davis, were stood in front of the barriers, and a herd of reporters, photographers and cameramen were armed with cameras, microphones, and good old fashioned pen and paper, in front of them. Bob was clutching a piece of paper in his hand.

Tina, Gene and Teddy were huddled together, watching from their spot next to the well.

"I'm Bob Belcher, Louise's father," he began, somewhat nervously, placing his arm around his wife. "I, uh, I have a statement here that I'd like to read out; it's from the whole family." He fumbled with the paper. "We want to thank everyone for all they've done, and all they're doing. There's, uh, there's too many to mention, but we are so, so grateful to everyone here. Ever since yesterday, they have been digging non-stop, and... I don't know what we would have done without everyone's help. I know that my daughter is going to be all right, and, uh, once again, we just want to say how grateful we are to everyone who's helping us." Bob couldn't say any more; there was a lot more he wanted to say, but he couldn't find the words to express himself.

“Is it true she was pushed in the well?" one reporter called out.

"Yes,” he said. “I, uh, can't name names, but it was a teenage boy,” said Bob, after a look from Davis.

"Have Louise and the boy crossed paths before?"

"Yes."

“Can you elaborate on that, sir?” Bob looked uncomfortably at Linda, before deciding to just tell the truth.

“Yes, he's bullied her in the past,” it was the right word to use, he thought.

“Bullied her? In what way?”

“Well, he stole her bunny ears hat, which is the most important thing to her, and generally likes to make her miserable.”

“Is it true your daughter hired a biker gang to cut off the boy's ears?” Hearing that made Bob fume; Cynthia had obviously been speaking to the press.

“.. No,” he lied. He didn't know why he lied. Well, if he had to be honest, and he knew it was stupid and ridiculous, but he was afraid they would stop helping Louise if they knew the truth. He knew that she would have cut Logan's ears off. He was worried that if they thought Louise was a horrible little girl, then they would just leave her down in the well. He and Linda wouldn't be able to get her out by themselves. 

"Mr Belcher! How has this tragedy affected you and your family?"

"How many other children do you have?"

"We have three children, including Louise," Linda spoke up.

"Yes, and I really think that this is bringing us closer," said Bob, answering the first question. "We're always together now, because we all want to be there for Louise."

"What you like to see done now?" a female reporter called out the final question, and the cameras focused on the Belchers'.

"What we want is for Louise to get out of the well as soon as possible, safe and sound," said Linda sincerely. Both she and Bob wanted nothing else. The reporters started to ask more questions, but the parents were ushered away by Davis, and they immediately went back to the well.

* * *

Olsen Benner was sitting in the park, leaning against a nearby oak tree. Her chin was resting in her hand as she watched the ongoing rescue efforts.

Ed had left a few hours ago, but another cameraman, Brian, had taken over and was filming the drilling rig as it plunged into the ground.

Olsen was determined to stay until Louise was out. She knew it would take a while, maybe a day, maybe more, but she was going to stick it out. Olsen was going to see it through to the end; nobody ever took her seriously, and she was convinced that this was her chance to prove herself as a serious reporter.

After a while, she rose and made her way over to the family; Nathan was still pestering her about getting an interview.

“Hello, Mr and Mrs Belcher,” she greeted them. Bob nodded politely in reply, but Linda didn't acknowledge her. “May I speak with you for a few moments?” They didn't say yes, but they also didn't say no, so Olsen remained next to them. Being the first reporter on the scene, she still got told the latest news first, and although Bob and Linda had given a brief statement, they had still not given a proper interview. Olsen didn't want to pressure them; she wasn't going to force them to talk, but if they did, it would make her job a whole lot easier. “Is there anything you wanna say about how the rescue operation is going?”

“Look,” said Linda, “I know that you've got a job to do, and I don't wanna sound rude, but I don't care. The only thing that I care about is my baby girl getting out of the well. The only reason we made a statement is because we had to.”

“What she means to say,” Bob continued, trying to be polite, even though he felt the same way, “is that we're still a little shook up from all of this. We'll talk to you when she's out.” It wasn't ideal, but it was clear that there was to be no negotiations, and so Olsen took it. It would probably happen before the day was out, therefore a chance to get a story for the front page.

“Thank you, Mr and Mrs Belcher,” she said before walking away.

“I wanna talk to Louise,” announced Gene, as he sat down next to the well and took the headphones from Tim. When he put them on, he couldn't hear anything. “Louise? Louise?” he called into the darkness.

“ _Gene?”_ came her voice through the speaker.

“Yeah, it's me. You should see it up here; there's policemen and firemen, and trucks, and diggers; it's insane,” he told her.

“ _Yeah? Sounds cool,”_ she muttered.

“It really is,” he said. “And there's all these people that have come to watch; lots of kids from school.”

“ _Great(!) Just what I wanted; an audience.”_ Louise wasn't happy to hear that. She didn't know how long she'd been trapped, but if it was long enough for word to spread, then must have been a while. Now this would be all people would see when they saw her, 'the girl who was stuck in the well.'

“Are you okay?” Gene asked, noticing her subdued tone. “Are you tired?”

“ _... Yeah,”_ Louise admitted, but she would rather spend a week in the well than admit that she didn't want to sleep. It wasn't that she was _afraid,_ it was because she didn't want to miss it when they reached her. At least, that's what she told herself.

“Well, don't worry; you be in there for much longer,” said Gene, trying to cheer his sister up.

“ _That's great,”_ try as she might, Louise couldn't sound happy; she was too tired. _“Can't wait to get out.”_

“We can't wait to see you,” he told her. He couldn't really think of anything else to say, plus he thought that if Louise was left in peace, then she might get some sleep. And so, he gave the headphones back to Tim and rejoined his family.

When he returned, two policemen were standing there with them, and looking at him.

“Hello, son,” Brian smiled, and Gene smiled back uneasily. “We were just wondering if we could talk to you.”

“About what?”

“About Louise, and the boy who pushed her in. Is it true that you know a few things about why he pushed her?” Gene looked over at his parents; Louise had made him swear to never tell about the Reverse Norwegian Stink hold incident. But he knew that this was more important.

“Well,” he began, very aware that the younger officer, Derek, had a notepad and pen. “Last October, Mom and Dad left me and Louise home alone, and she found a rotten cantaloupe in the refrigerator.”

“It was just the two of you?” Derek confirmed, and Gene nodded.

“Tina had detention,” said Bob, and Tina looked to the side, embarrassed.

“She wanted to throw the cantaloupe off the fire escape into the alley,” Gene continued. “So, she did, but Logan was skateboarding down there, and she didn't see him. I saw him, but it was too late, and it exploded all over him.”

“And what did Logan do?” asked Derek, scribbling away.

“He said he was gonna make Louise's life a living hell,” said Gene. “His friends left, and he stayed outside our house for ages.”

“How long was he there?”

“Over an hour,” said Gene after a moment's thought. “He kept doing karate on a parked car, and he climbed on the car to try to jump through the window, and I told Louise to apologise so he'd go away.”

“And did she?”

“No.” Bob inwardly groaned, even though he knew that was the answer.

“Okay, then what?”

“He said he was going to ruin her life, and he said he was going to get revenge.”

“Did he clarify what he meant by 'revenge'?”

“Yeah, he said he was gonna give her a Reverse Norwegian Stink hold.” Upon hearing that, the officers looked at one another, as did the Belchers.

“What's a Reverse Norwegian Stink hold?” asked Brian.

“It's a wrestling move; the signature move of Norwegian Steven!” he cried, “It's horrible; they put you in a headlock, and then they pinch you, and makes you breathe in his B.O.!” The Belchers looked horrified.

“He was gonna do that to Louise?” Linda asked, looking shocked, and Gene nodded.

“Okay, and then what happened?” asked Derek.

“Well, then he tricked us into leaving the house.” Derek opened his mouth, but Bob got there first.

“Wait, how did he do that?”

“He called us and said he was in the house, and then he threw a shoe through the window, and we got scared and ran outside. Then, he chased us through town.”

“He chased you through town?!” Linda gasped, her arms encircling Gene in a protective hug. “My poor babies! Didn't anyone help you?” Gene only shook his head.

“So, we hid at Lobsterfest, but he found us hiding in this warehouse, and he backed us into a corner, and then...” Gene hesitated.

“What? What happened?” asked Bob.

“L-Louise was so scared, she started crying,” he admitted, watching his families' jaws' drop. Of course, they were shocked; Louise was not a crier, even when she was younger and she hurt herself, she would try to hide her tears.

“Then what?” asked Derek.

“I told him to do the move on me; he didn't want to, but then he did, and it was horrible.”

“Right, okay. Gene, thanks for telling us this; I just have one last question, and be honest; do you think Logan was going to leave your sister alone after she started crying?”

“I don't think so,” said Gene truthfully; from what he remembered, Logan hadn't seemed too concerned about Louise's tears, and he still wanted to perform the move on her.

“Okay, well this is very helpful,” Derek closed his notepad, and placed it in his pocket.

“Is that the only time he's given her trouble?” asked Brian.

“He's gotten worse lately,” said Tina before she could stop herself.

“What do you mean?” Brian looked down at the worried teenager.

“Well, I mean, he was always mean to her; he would do things like burping in her face, and annoying her, but he's been really mean lately.”

“What has he done?” asked Linda.

“Well, remember that snowfall we had at Christmas? Logan and his friends took over the sledding hill and threw snowballs at everyone, and wouldn't let us sled. But when it snowed again, he made some ice snowballs, and was going to throw them at Louise. In the face.”

“What?!” Bob was fuming now. “What is wrong with him?!”

“He was going to throw them at all of us,” Tina clarified, “we went over to protect Louise, and he was still going to throw them.”

“He stopped because the high school girls threw snowballs at him,” Gene added. Brian and Derek looked at one another.

“Okay, well, thanks again. We're gonna go over to Logan's house, and get a statement from him, and from there, it's up to you to decide what you want to do.”

“What do you mean?” asked Bob.

“Well, any injuries Louise may have is a result of her being pushed by Logan. At the very least, she'll need to be checked over. You could press charges.”

“What?” Bob glanced at his wife, unsure of what to make of this. He was very tempted; it was the least Logan deserved.

“Well, that's interesting,” muttered Linda, her mind still focused on Louise. “We will definitely think about it.” 

The two officers nodded, before leaving the park.

* * *

Olsen Benner once again approached the family, and she saw Bob pull a face.

“Sir, I'm not here to interview you,” she began, “I just want to show you something.” Bob and Linda looked over at her, curious.

“What is it?” asked Bob.

“Follow me,” Olsen led the parents over to the news van, while Gene and Tina stayed with Teddy.

“Do you kids wanna go home for a while, get some rest?” asked Teddy, looking down at the siblings.

“I wanna stay here,” said Tina, and Gene nodded.

“Yeah, me too.” Teddy nodded as well.

“Okay, then.”

Olsen, Bob, and Linda had reached the news van, and again they saw their daughter on the screen. Their little girl, who had been trapped for almost an entire day.

“Did you know this place has CCTV?” Olsen's voice brought the parents back to reality, and they faced the reporter.

“What?”

“They decided to put CCTV in here after last Halloween. Some drunk guy with a broken leg ended up hiding in the play area, chased by a nurse carrying a table. Weird.” Bob cleared his throat nervously.

“How did you find out about the CCTV?”

“Well, I don't know if you know this, but the boy who pushed her in – he and his mom spoke to reporters earlier today. They claimed it was an accident, and so I wanted to see for myself. I got the footage from yesterday.” Olsen pointed at the screen, and the image changed from Louise to a view of the park. “I spent hours digging through this,” Olsen told them, speeding through the footage. “Ah, here it is,” and the footage began to play. The timestamp in the bottom left corner of the screen read 17:50pm. They waited for a moment, and then a figure who was unmistakably Louise came into view; she was walking through the park, minding her own business, and she was straying off the path. Then, Logan was shown approaching her, and they appeared to talk, before Logan stepped right up close to Louise. More talking, before he shoved her, and Louise was seen staggering backwards, before disappearing into the well. The timestamp now read 17:54pm.

Bob and Linda's jaws were hanging open.

“That little brat!” snapped Linda. But she stopped, continuing to watch. Logan, who had dropped to his knees, jumped up and ran off. “He left her!” Linda growled. “He left her there!”

“Oh, my God,” said Bob, looking disgusted. “He just ran off'! If those two girls hadn't found her...”

“I'm gonna kill him!” Linda growled.

“Ma'am, the police will see this tape, and they'll decide what to do with the boy,” Olsen said.

“I'll tell ya what we'll do with him; we'll throw him down there for a day, see how he likes it.” Muttering angrily under her breath, Linda, along with Bob, returned to their other children.

“What did you see?” asked Gene.

“There's video of Logan pushing Louise into the well, and then he ran off and left her!” Bob told them, and Teddy gasped.

“He just left her? How could he?!”

“Because he's evil, Teddy!” Bob snarled, his hands clenching into fists. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Once Louise is out, then we'll deal with him. How far have they gotten?”

“Uh, about ten feet to go,” said Teddy. “They just told us that.”

“Okay, good,” said Bob.

"Mom?" began Tina. "Don't you think we should call Grandma and Grandpa now?"

"Oh, God," she said quietly. "We really should, but I don't wanna worry them."

“I'll do it,” said Bob. “Teddy, can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure thing, Bobby,” Teddy reached into his pocket, and handed Bob his phone, and Bob dialled his mother-in-law.

“ _Hello?”_ Bob wasn't as irritated by Gloria's voice as he usually was.

“Hi, Gloria, it's Bob. I, uh, I don't know if you've heard, but Louise is.. trapped in a well,” he said.

“ _We know. It's on the TV,”_ she told him.

“It is?” he looked confused. They were in Florida; how could it be on TV?

“ _Yeah. We wanna come down, but we don't have a car. We're trying to book a bus or maybe a flight,”_ she said. They were extremely worried about their youngest grandchild, and they desperately wanted to be there when she was freed.

“Okay, well, come down if you can. Bye,” Bob hung up, and, figuring he might as well kill two birds with one stone, he dialled Gayle's number. “Hello, Gayle?”

“ _Hey, Bob, it's Gayle!”_ she cried, her voice sounding out-of-breath. He sighed.

“Gayle...”

“ _Bob, I'm glad you called; I've been so worried about Louise! I've been doing my praying mantis ritual for the woods for the past 16 hours!”_

“Gayle, I – wait, what's a praying mantis ritual?” Bob had to pinch his nose.

“ _You know; it's where I put on my long green dress, and dance like a praying mantis. It brings good luck. Have you had any good luck, Bob?!”_ Her voice suddenly grew frantic.

“Uh, yeah, we've uh... Louise is feeling optimistic,” he said.

“ _Oh, good, it's working, then! It's also supposed to make things go quicker; so you can thank me when they get her out.”_

“We will. But, Gayle, what about your cats? Don't tire yourself out; don't you have to feed them?”

“ _Oh, Rebecca from upstairs is doing it for me.”_

“Okay, then. Well, thanks for your, uh, help. See you later.”

“ _Bye, Bob!”_ As he handed the phone back to Teddy, he had to admit it was rather sweet. Gayle may be certifiably insane, but she was genuinely doing her best to help.

* * *

Once again, Brian and Derek climbed the steps of Logan's house, and rang the doorbell. Again, the door was answered by Cynthia.

“Yes?” she said, just a hint of annoyance on her face.

“Hello, again, Mrs Bush, we'd like to speak to your son, if we may,” said Brian.

“You already did that!” came a snappy voice from the living room.

“What's this about?” the mother asked.

“It's about Louise Belcher,” he said, and Cynthia narrowed her eyes slightly.

“You already spoke to us about her,” she made to close the door, but Brian prevented her from doing so.

“Ma'am, we have received some new information, and we'd just like to speak to your son, to make sure the stories match.”

“Okay, come in,” said Cynthia, after a moment's hesitation, and allowed the two officers to enter her home.

The three of them went into the living room, where Logan was sat on the sofa, his feet on the coffee table, and flicking through the television channels.

“Feet down!” Cynthia ordered, and Logan scowled before complying. “Please, sit,” she turned to the policemen. “What have you come to talk about?”

“We've been speaking to the Belcher family, and according to them, this isn't the first time Logan has harassed Louise. Is that true?” he faced the boy in question.

“She's the one who harasses me!” Logan snapped, folding his arms.

“Have you ever harassed her before?”

“What do you consider 'harassment'?” Cynthia raised an eyebrow.

“Well, ma'am, it's technically defined as intentionally targeting someone else with behaviour that is meant to alarm, annoy, torment or terrorise them,” Brian quoted from memory. “And as Logan is believed to have had several unfortunate encounters with Louise, it could qualify, which is why we need him to tell us what happened.” With Cynthia momentarily speechless, he turned back to Logan. “Have you ever harassed, threatened or intimidated Louise Belcher before?” he repeated, and Logan nodded after a while. “Okay, and have you ever tried to physically harm her?” he asked, and Logan shrugged after a long pause. “According to Louise's brother, you tried to perform a wrestling move on her. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Logan muttered. “But she threw a rotten cantaloupe on me!”

“Is it true that you lured Louise and her brother out of their home, and chased them through town?” Logan's eyes widened slightly, and he had no choice but to nod.

“And what made you approach Louise on Friday evening?” Logan felt that telling the truth was the only option; they knew everything.

“I wanted revenge,” he said, kicking the sofa.

“Revenge for the cantaloupe?”

“Yeah, I was gonna do the wrestling move on her,” he admitted.

“So, why did you push her?” asked Derek, and Logan froze.

“I – I...” he stuttered.

“According to both yourself and Gene Belcher, you wanted to hurt Louise by performing a wrestling move on her, so why did you push her?”

“I don't know! I – I was angry!”

“What would have done if she didn't fall in the well?” asked Brian, causing Logan to stop and think. He didn't know what he would have done. He would definitely have given her the Reverse Norwegian Stink hold, but after that? He didn't know.

“Dunno,” he muttered. “But I would have done the move.”

“You would have performed a wrestling move on her after pushing her?” Brian confirmed, and Logan nodded, looking annoyed. “Would you have continued hurting her after you did the move?” he asked another question that made Logan stop in his tracks. It would have been too easy to have just let her go, he thought. After everything she had done to him, he thought it was only fair that he got a little payback.

“Dunno,” he repeated.

“You also tried to throw ice-filled snowballs at her and her siblings, is that correct?” Logan had to nod, as he knew he couldn't lie his way out of that. There were too many witnesses. Judging by the look on Cynthia's face, it was the first time she'd heard about that.

“What?” she asked.

“Yes!” he snapped. “I was gonna throw ice balls at them! Happy now!?”

“Why?” asked Derek.

“They – they wanted to go sledding!” Logan groaned, “okay, that makes it sound bad, but they just wouldn't leave us alone!”

“Son,” Brian leaned forward, looking serious, “if you had done that, that would be considered assault,” he said, and Logan paled, as did Cynthia.

“There's no need for that,” she said breezily. “I mean, it didn't happen, so no harm, no foul, right?”

“Ma'am, your son has already assaulted Louise, by pushing her. Any injuries she has from the well are a direct result of her being pushed.” He felt that they had a right to know. “It's up to her parents, but they could press charges against your son.” Now, they both looked rather unwell.

“Just for a little push?” said Cynthia. “But if the well wasn't there, then this wouldn't have happened!”

“I understand that, ma'am, however, it doesn't change the fact that Louise only fell in the well because she was pushed. Assault is physical harm or unwanted physical contact. But, you could sue.”

“What? Who would we sue?”

“You could sue the local council, as the well was uncovered, which they knew about.” Brian felt he had to be fair; he couldn't take sides. “But this is just conjecture; they may not even press charges, I'm just letting you know that they could.”

“Of course they'll press charges; they hate us!” Cynthia muttered.

“It was just an accident!” Logan protested. Derek said nothing and merely pulled out his phone. He pulled up a video and turned the device to face them. Both Cynthia and Logan paled even more as they watched the CCTV of the incident. None of them knew what to say to that; it didn't make Logan look good at all.

Since Brian and Derek had gotten what they came for, they bade the mother and son goodbye, and headed back to Wharf Park.

* * *

By 8pm, the rescue shaft was getting very close to being completed. Bob, his family, and Teddy, were all standing together, waiting silently, anxiously, when Davis approached them.

“So, the tunnel is almost done,” he said. “And when it's done, we'll be able to start the digging process.”

“Great,” said Linda. “How long will it take?”

“We're hoping to have her out by tonight,” said Davis, after the slightest hesitation. “But we will keep all of you updated, okay? So, if you have any questions, let us know.”

“I'm gonna go home for a minute, okay, Bobby?” said Teddy when Davis had walked away. “I'll be back soon.”

“Okay, Teddy,” said Bob, before turning to his wife. “We should take the kids home for a while; so they can have something to eat.”

“I don't wanna eat when Louise can't!” said Gene, looking horrified.

“Gene, you have to eat,” said Bob.

“But why haven't they given Louise any food? She must be really hungry,” said Tina, which made Bob stop and think.

“I'm going to find out,” he said, walking over to where Davis and Richards were, past the well, near one of the trees. “Hey, I have a quick question,” he said, facing them. “Why haven't you given Louise any food? She hasn't eaten since yesterday.”

“Well, sir,” Richards began, “the doctor advised against it. He said that he doesn't know for sure whether she has any internal injuries, and if she does, giving her food could do more harm than good. As long as she has water, she'll be fine,” he assured the distressed father, who could only nod tautly, before he made his way back to his family.

He was surprised to see the One-Eyed Snakes standing with them.

“Bob!” Critter pulled Bob into a rough, one-armed hug. “How you holdin' up?”

“We're managing,” was all Bob could say. “What are you doing here?”

“We saw it on TV, and we had to come down.” The entire gang was there, even Mudflap and Sidecar.

“It's so sweet of you guys to come down here,” said Linda, who managed to smile as Sidecar reached out for her, and she took him.

“It's nothing,” said Critter. “How's she doin'?”

“She's... hanging in there,” said Bob, “she just wants to get out.”

“Oh, they gonna get her out,” said Mudflap comfortingly, clapping a heavy hand on Bob's shoulder, causing his knees to buckle. “She'll be fine.”

“Thanks,” said Bob sincerely.

A spurt of sudden, light applause caused them to look over to the tunnel, where Richards and Davis were standing with a few drillers.

“Right, let's get some oxygen tubes down there, and get drilling!” Richards ordered, and there came a lot of hurrying about following that.

“We've finished digging the tunnel,” Davis grinned, having ran over to them. “We're going to send somebody down to start digging once the oxygen tubes arrive."

“So, you can start right away?” asked Bob.

“Pretty much,” Davis told him. “We've already called for lights, cables, rigging apparatus, and the oxygen tubes are on the way.”

“Oh, thank God,” said Linda, and Davis noticed that the little group had more than doubled in size.

“Friends of yours?” he asked.

“Yes, these are.. the One-Eyed Snakes,” said Bob. Davis nodded, but was prevented from answering by a few reporters, including Olsen Benner, asking them questions, with Brian filming them.

“Sir, is this the same biker gang who Louise apparently hired to cut off the boy's ears?”

“Yes,” Bob didn't know why he was talking to them. Maybe it was because he felt a little better knowing that Louise would be out soon.

“How do you know each other?”

“They're regulars at our restaurant; we're friends.”

“You work in a restaurant?” asked Olsen Benner.

“I own one; Bob's Burgers,” said Bob out of habit.

“And they all came in one day?”

“Yeah; the kids love them.”

“So, you didn't try to cut off a boy's ears?” Olsen directed this to Critter, who shook his head.

“No, ma'am; we ain't that kind of gang. We wouldn't take orders from a kid. The Belchers are our friends, and we're here to support them.” Bob remained silent until Olsen and the other reporters had moved away.

“Critter, what are you doing?” he whispered.

“Look, we both know Louise would have made us do it if she could. Would we have done it? I wouldn't have, but we did say we owed you a favour, and you know that she would have done anything to get that hat back. I can't go back to jail, Bob; I think it's best that we just say it didn't happen.”

Loud voices and quick movements drew their attention back to the well, and they watched silently as the pipes were hooked up to a generator containing the oxygen and were lowered into the tunnel, and the first digger was hooked up to the rigging apparatus; a cable attached to the winch of the drilling rig, with a mining light on his head and a jackhammer in his gloved hands.

He was attached to a harness and promptly lowered by the drilling rig down the eighty-seven feet to the bottom of the narrow shaft. He felt as though he were in a very long barrel. There were lights attached to a cord than ran the length of the tunnel, as well as the two canvas pipes containing the oxygen. Added to this the fact that he was welding a forty-five-pound jackhammer and the space soon became extremely cramped. Within minutes, he was bathed in sweat.

A large 'X' had been marked on the side of the tunnel so that he would know where to start, and the young, rather inexperienced man began to dig into the wall. After a few minutes, he paused to see how much progress had been made, and he was dismayed to see that he had not even dented the rock, so he pulled his mask back down over his face and continued to drill.

“At least they're drilling now,” said Bob, as Teddy came running up to them, panting, with several bundles under his arms. “What are those?” he asked, as Teddy placed them on the ground. Teddy lifted one up and unfolded a camping chair.

“I brought five,” he said, unfolding them, and gesturing for them to sit. Gene and Tina did so, along with Linda, but Bob hesitated slightly. Sitting in a chair would be like admitting that Louise was not going to be rescued for a while. It felt wrong, but he forced himself to sit. It didn't mean anything, he told himself.

* * *

Tim and Charlie remained by the well, both of them sitting cross-legged. Charlie was wearing the headphones, and Tim was discussing the rescue operation with a nearby officer. Louise had been continuing to talk to them, but she had been silent for the last twenty minutes. At first, Charlie had been okay with it; but after a while, it became rather frightening. When Louise fell silent, they had no way of knowing whether it was because she was sleeping, or worse, and so Charlie began to call down to her.

“Louise, can you hear me?” When the girl did not answer, he called again, louder this time.

“Is everything all right?” Tim turned his attention back to the well, as a few police and firemen gathered around.

“I can't hear her, and she's not answering when I call,” said Charlie, and Tim took the headphones and placed them over his ears.

“Louise?” he called. He couldn't hear anything, except for the faint sound of drilling. “Louise? Come on, Louise, answer me! Louise!” The girl still wasn't answering, and Tim looked up at Charlie in desperation. “I'm pretty sure she's asleep; what do we do?” Charlie stared down into the well for a few seconds, thinking.

“Wait, I've got an idea!” He took up the microphone lead, and began to lower it even further down the well until it reached something solid. Gripping the cord, Charlie bounced the microphone off of Louise's head several times.

“ _Ow,”_ came a tired whine from below.

“Sorry, Louise!” Tim called, relief flooding through him. “Had to make sure you were still awake.”

“ _I'm awake,”_ came Louise's tired, irritated mumble; it sounded as though she had just woken up. _“Want to get out,”_ she said, raising her voice slightly.

“I know you do, Louise, and we're working on it, okay? We're still digging, and we won't be long.”

“ _I want to get out now!”_ Louise called.

“I know,” Tim repeated. “We want to get you out, too. I promise you it won't be long.”

“ _You've been saying that for hours! I want to get out!”_ Both Tim and Charlie felt so bad for her; there was nothing they could do except talk to her, and they wanted to do more.

“I know it's hard, but just hang in there; we're coming. We're almost there!” Charlie called. He felt bad about lying, but the poor kid was scared, what else was he supposed to say?

Dr Cabell had also warned them to not let Louise cry; tears meant she would get dehydrated quicker, and they couldn't afford to let her lose vital fluids. So when Louise got upset, Tim and Charlie would do everything in their power to stop her from crying.

“ _How long is it gonna take?”_ and Tim and Charlie looked at each other.

“Not long,” said Tim. “Just a few more hours!”

“ _Well, speed it up; I'm hungry!”_ Charlie bit his lip.

“We'll get you some food the second you're out, alright? I promise!”

“ _Just put it down here!”_

“Uh, we can't do that, Louise!”

“ _Why not? Just put it down! Come on, I'm starving!”_

“Well, honey,” Tim began, “the doctor said no food for a while; until he can be sure you're okay.”

“ _I'm fine, so tell him that, and give me something to eat!”_

“We just want you to be okay,” said Tim.

“ _Well, what you could do is get me out of this freakin' well!”_ Louise screamed. _“If you're happy to let me starve, you could at least do that!”_

At that moment, they saw Bob approaching the well, and they shuffled aside to let him sit down.

“She's awake,” said Tim, and Charlie passed the headphones over. Bob only gave a weak smile before placing them on his head.

“Louise?” he called.

“ _Dad? Dad, I wanna get out!”_

“I know; I want you to get out, too.” Bob couldn't describe how terrible he felt; his child was trapped underground, and his only means of comfort and communication were through a pair of headphones. He looked up as some of the reporters began to press themselves up against the barrier.

“Mr Belcher!”

“Over here, Mr Belcher!”

“Is there anything you'd like to say?” Bob wanted to go back to the rest of his family, but he needed to stay with Louise.

“ _Dad!”_ Louise sounded angry now, and Bob supposed that that was a good thing; it meant that Louise still had enough strength left, and that she wasn't too badly injured. _“I've been stuck in here for hours! It hurts; I can't move, and they won't let me eat or sleep!”_

“I'm sorry, Louise,” called Bob, trying not to cry. “It won't be long; I promise.” He heard her growling, a long, drawn-out growl that was steadily rising in volume and pitch. He knew what was coming. He took the headphones off just as Louise let out a high-pitched, frustrated scream that could be heard clearly over the sounds of the drilling and the generator. “Louise, calm down!” he had to yell to make himself heard.

“ _I don't wanna calm down!”_ Louise screamed. _“I wanna get out! Get me out!”_

“We are, Louise! We are!” Bob assured her, and he heard her growling frustratedly once again. Hearing that made Bob even sadder, and then he had to leave, lest he burst into tears.

* * *

Seated behind a desk, in a comfortable news studio, local anchor Valerie Hope smiled into the camera. _“_

 _Welcome to the evening news,”_ she began professionally, _“tonight's top story; a nine-year-old girl still remains trapped 80 feet below ground in an abandoned water well. We do have an interesting update in this story for you; we've mentioned previously that Louise Belcher was pushed into the well by a teenage boy, Logan Bush, who has apologised, and we now know why he did it. Our very own anchor, Olsen Benner, has been talking to Louise's parents, along with the police. They have also spoken to Logan, and it's now said that the boy wanted revenge._

“ _According to the Belchers, a few months ago, Louise threw a rotten cantaloupe off the fire escape of her home, which landed on Logan. Louise's older brother has told us that Logan said he was going to make Louise's life a “living hell.” Luring them out of their house, Louise and her brother were chased through town, before being cornered by Logan, who was intending to perform a wrestling move on Louise. He never got to do it. Logan revealed that he was planning on performing that wrestling move on her on Friday evening, which is when Louise fell in the well. However, he admitted he was angry at her, and he shoved her, causing her to fall in.”_

The wonders of modern technology meant that viewers were able to leave their thoughts on the news channel's social media, allowing the editors to read them instantly. While Valerie was presenting the other news stories, the best comments were picked for her to read aloud. _“And just quickly heading back to the Louise Belcher story, our viewers have been sharing their views on the rescue,”_ said Valerie, after the weather updates. _“Joanna Smythe says “that boy should be punished for what he has done. That little girl could be seriously injured. I can't stand bullies.” And Emma Waters says, “They need to hurry up and get her out. How long can drilling a tunnel take? Poor little girl.” But Scarlett Leigh says that, “well, maybe if she had apologised, he wouldn't have pushed her. I'm not condoning what he did, but it's clear he was angry. I don't think he meant for her to end up in the well, but I still think she could have said sorry to him.”_ Valerie looked up from her tablet and into the camera once more. _“It's clear that there a lot of people who have taken this story to heart. Keep tuning in for regular updates on the rescue efforts.”_

* * *

Bob looked at Teddy's watch; it was almost 9pm, which meant that Louise had been in the well for 27 hours, and once again, he realised that his children hadn't eaten, and neither had he or his wife.

“Well, we should probably go home and have something to eat,” he said, glancing over at Linda.

“Okay; you guys do that,” was all she said, eyes fixed on the well.

“Come on, Linda, you need to eat,” Bob lowered his voice, not wanting the kids' to hear.

“I can't,” Linda's voice cracked unintentionally, and Bob grabbed her hand. “I can't eat.” 

“Look, I know how you feel, but you need to,” he told her.

“But I just feel so guilty. I'm not eating when Louise can't!”

“Louise has the sugar water; she'll be fine,” said Bob, as much for his benefit as it was for Linda's.

“You don't think I know that?” she snapped irrationally. “I don't think I could eat even if I wanted to.”

“Well, let's try,” Bob helped his wife up, and looked over at the Snakes. “You guys wanna come?” he offered.

“We're good,” called Critter. “We're gonna stay here.” Bob nodded and escorted his family through the park.

The crowd began to surround them, and Bob placed his arms around his children. Lots of people were talking to him, but he couldn't make out what they were saying; everything was blending together until it sounded jumbled.

“Please, let us through,” he said, as he tried to navigate.

Truthfully, Richards and Davis were glad the Belchers were leaving; the press were getting very persistent, and would continuously shout out to them, doing their best to get an answer. Maybe now they could all get some peace.

Davis caught the attention of officer George, and nodded in the direction of the Belchers. George nodded in return and jogged after them.

Bob and Linda were finding it extremely hard to move through the crowd, even more so now that the press had moved over to where they were and they were blocking the way. There were cameras, microphones, cables, and lots of people, and everything seemed to be swirling around them.

“All right, back up! Back up now!” came a sharp voice, and Bob turned to see George next to them. “Let them through!” Although the crowd backed up, the reporters didn't and they continued to film and photograph the Belchers', shouting out question after question. “Move back!” George ordered, guiding the family through the park.

When they had reached the entrance, they hesitated momentarily. None of them wanted to leave Louise. “If you want, I could give you a ride,” George offered.

“Okay,” Bob nodded after a moment, thinking that it would be easier; at least they would get there without being crowded. George led the family over to one of the police cars, and they climbed in; Bob in the front, and Linda squeezed into the back with Gene and Tina.

The ride home was silent; none of them could think of what to say, nor did they want to speak. Thankfully, the drive was short, and they were outside their home in no time, and they got out of the car.

“When you want to come back to the park, let me know. We'll call you the moment we reach her,” George smiled, and Bob nodded in reply.

For a while, the family remained outside their home, looking in at the empty restaurant, before Bob opened the door to the apartment. He took Linda and the kids inside, and sat her at the kitchen table, and he set about making dinner for them, while Linda, Gene and Tina sat in silence.

Linda was loath to stay inside and leave Louise alone no matter how anyone tried to convince her.

"I can't stay here! She's been in there for too long; she needs me!"

"Lin, you need to keep your strength up."

"I want to stay out there, Bob. I want to be here when they get her out."

"If they get her out while we're sleeping, they'll come and wake us up," said Hal.

"Mom, you look really tired," Gene observed. He was right; Linda had bags under her eyes, she was pale and she looked washed out in general. Both she and Bob were wearing the same clothes they had on the previous day, and the wrinkled clothing made them look more weary and ragged.

"It doesn't matter how tired I am; you kids' go on and eat your dinner. You need to eat."

"And so do you," said Bob. "Come on, Lin."

"No, Bob! I want to go and be with Louise; she must be so scared. She's been down there for two days!"

"Mom, please sit down," said Tina, gesturing the table.

"No, Tina! I am going back out there and waiting until Louise is safe! Oh, what is taking them so long?! They should have been finished by now!"

"Well, digging a tunnel isn't really the problem," said Gene unexpectedly, causing everyone to look at him. "That's easy enough, but they have to make it big enough for Louise and the guy who's going to get her out to fit in." The three of them just stared at Gene in shock. That had never even occurred to them. What he had just said made the most sense out of anything they had heard all day.

"You're right," Bob realised. "They have to make the tunnel wide enough; Louise isn't going to get out of there herself." The group fell silent once again upon hearing this.

"I never really thought about that," Linda admitted, sinking into her chair.

"So, they're gonna have to.. pull her out?" asked Tina, also sitting down.

"Well, yeah," said Bob. "If her back is hurt, she might not be able to get out by herself. When they've dug the tunnel, someone'll go down and pull her out."

"Will it hurt?" asked Gene, once again, causing everyone to look over at him.

"It shouldn't," said Linda quickly, more to herself than anybody else. "I mean, all they have to do is pull her into the tunnel; it shouldn't hurt that bad. She can't be hurt that bad, can she?"

"No," said Bob quickly, not wishing to upset his wife. "I'm sure she's just fine, a-and pulling her out shouldn't hurt her too much, either."

True to her word, Linda didn't eat. She couldn't. She looked up at her children, eating silently, and caught Bob looking at her. _'Please,'_ his eyes said. She could see the fear and heartbreak written all over his face, and so, she complied. However, just as she predicted, she did not feel any better after eating; in fact, she felt worse, if that were possible. But, she would do it for Bob, and for Louise.

Once they had finished, they did not immediately go back to the park. It was almost 11pm.

“Alright, kids, it's time for bed,” said Bob, still sat at the table, and they looked up at him.

“What? Dad, no!” Tina protested.

“We wanna go back with you!” said Gene. “They're gonna get Louise out, and we wanna see!”

“Gene, you still need to get some sleep,” Bob told him. “And they'll come and get us, okay? And, remember, sleeping makes the time go quicker.” He couldn't fool Louise with that, but Gene and Tina accepted it. The siblings rose quietly and went off to their respective rooms.

When they were in bed, Bob and Linda went to Gene's room.

“Goodnight, Gene,” whispered Linda, giving him a kiss on the forehead.

“How long will it be until they get her out? Will they get her tonight?”

“I hope so,” said Bob. “I don't know how long it'll be,” he admitted, and Gene looked worried.

“It won't be long, right?” the boy asked, and the parents looked at each other.

“Not too long,” said Linda. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, Mom, goodnight, Dad.”

“Night, Gene,” said Bob, as they left his room, and went into Tina's.

“Goodnight, sweetie,” said Linda, tucking her eldest in.

“Goodnight, Mom. Will you wake me up when they get her out?”

“Of course we will,” Bob assured her. “Now, try and get some sleep.” He and his wife both kissed her and left the room.

On their way back to the living room, they stopped by Louise's bedroom, and looked inside. Linda felt tears building up, and she quickly went into the living room. Bob followed her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"There, now," Bob said, taking Linda's hand and making her sit on the sofa. "Let's just sit in here, and try to get some sleep; even if it's only an hour."

"I don't wanna go to sleep, Bob; I wanna go out there and be with Louise!"

"I know you do, and so do the rest of us, but exhausting yourself isn't going to do anyone any good."

“I just wanna stay with her; she must be so scared.”

“She'll be fine,” Bob told her. “She's not alone; she's got Kuchi Kopi, and all the policemen talking to her, and everything.” Linda didn't say anything; she rested her head on Bob's shoulder, and he hugged her tightly.

After a while, Bob stood and went over to the bookcase, pulling out a photo album. Returning to the sofa, he opened it, and he and Linda began to look through their kids' childhood photos. On the second page was a picture of Bob holding baby Louise, not long after she had been born; he had the biggest grin on his face.

They continued to flip slowly through the book, and every time they came across a photo of Louise, they stopped and stared at it.

“Oh, I love that one,” said Linda, pointing at the picture of Louise's first birthday. She was sitting in her high chair, her eyes wide at the chocolate cake that had been placed before her, a single candle in the centre. Like lots of other babies, Louise had been mesmerised by the flame, and when Linda had blown it out for her, she had immediately dove headfirst into the cake.

The parents chuckled as they looked at the next photo, one of Louise, her face, arms, and torso completely covered in chocolate.

Her second Christmas; her hugging a large plush dog, which was her favourite toy. Her first Easter, in which a five-month-old Louise was being held by the Easter Bunny, with Gene and Tina also on his lap.

There was her first Halloween; Louise, almost a year old, and wearing a cat costume, and holding (with Bob's help) a small pillowcase. Her first day of kindergarten, her pink beanie looking far too big for her four-year-old head, and holding her teddy-bear lunch box. There was the first photo of her wearing her brand new bunny ears. This photo was precious to Bob and Linda as it marked the first time that Louise had smiled since the accident. The next photo was of her looking up at her bunny ears, her mouth open in a wide smile, gently holding onto the tassels. She looked so excited that it always brought tears to Linda's eyes when she saw that photo.

“I think this one is my favourite,” Bob pointed to a picture of a five-year-old Louise, smiling widely, her two front teeth missing. He couldn't remember when or where the photo was taken, but he loved it because she just looked so happy.

Eventually, they both fell asleep on the sofa in each others' arms.

* * *

Tim and Charlie were still lying by the well, still talking to Louise, who was being very ill-tempered; she kept ordering them to hurry up and get her out, and to go faster, and she kept making long, frustrated groans. The two policemen would then reassure her that it wouldn't be long, even though they had no idea how long it was going to take.

As the night went on, Louise grew more and more agitated, screaming, and shouting up repeatedly for them to get her out; Tim and Charlie's constant reassurances were doing little to comfort her.

Louise screwed up her face; she was sick of this, of all the waiting. She looked over at Kuchi Kopi, and glared at him.

“ _Don't look at me like that,”_ she muttered. _“They're doing this on purpose, and you know it!”_

She looked up once more, even though she knew she couldn't see anything. She felt tears pricking her eyes once again, and she blinked them away, but this time they kept coming. Louise scowled, and continued blinking fiercely. All she wanted was to get out; why were they taking so long? Her arms and legs had long gone numb and her hands and feet were cold. The bricks that were piled on top of her were hurting. She didn't know how much longer she could take this. _“Just get me out!”_ Louise screamed, sounding distraught, tired, and angry all at once.

“Louise, we are!” Tim called down to her, as the nearby adults gathered around to listen. “We are getting you out!”

“ _Get me out! What are you waiting for?!”_

“Louise, we're not doing this on purpose.”

“ _Yes, you are!”_

“We're going as fast as we can, sweetie.”

“ _I wanna get out!”_

“I know you do, and we're still digging to reach you.” Louise shook her head frustratedly, her face contorting with anger.

“ _GET ME OUTTA HERE!”_ Louise's head dropped down onto her chest, screwing up her face, and blinking away more tears.

“It won't be long, okay? Louise?” Tim had the headphones over his ears and listened for a while. Due to all of the noise, nobody else could hear Louise, but Tim could, and what he heard was heart-wrenching “Oh, my God,” Tim bit his lip and looked up at Charlie.

“What?!” Charlie feared the worst.

“She's crying.” Tim passed the headphones over and Charlie heard Louise sobbing quietly.

“Don't cry!” he called, fighting back tears himself.

“ _I'M NOT CRYING!”_ Louise screamed, throwing her head back, tears streaming down her red face.

“It's okay, Louise; we're going to get you out. Don't be scared, sweetheart, we're getting you out. Don't cry.” Richards and Davis heard and stopped to listen. One by one, a quiet swept over the park, as all of the workers, police, firemen, all stopped to listen to the crying child.

The man who was supervising the driller down below, gestured for the digger to stop, Tim disconnected the headphones, and the weeping from Louise became louder.

“Should we get her parents?” Tim asked.

“...No. They need to rest,” said Charlie after a moment. “If – if she's still like this after a while, then we'll get them.”

“Hey, Louise?” called Tim after a moment. “You like Pokemon? Wanna hear a Pokemon joke? How do you get Pikachu onto a bus? You _Pokemon!_ ” He started laughing, and Charlie followed his lead.

“Louise?” he called. “What do you call a fake noodle? An impasta!” Louise was still crying, so they began to tell more jokes, any jokes they could think of, the cheesier, the better. “Louise, what did the cookie say when it got run over? Oh, crumbs!”

“Why do bicycles fall over? Because they're two tyred!” Tim was struggling to think of appropriate jokes. He knew plenty, just none that were clean enough to tell a frightened nine-year-old girl.

“Tell her the one about the “R” rated pirate movie,” George suggested when Tim and Charlie faltered.

“Oh, yeah. Louise, why couldn't the kid see the pirate movie? It was rated Arr!”

Soon, the other people surrounding them began suggesting jokes and anecdotes, and after around fifteen minutes, Louise had calmed down and had stopped crying, and Tim and Charlie relaxed slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the second chapter done. What did you think? I'd love to know your thoughts!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, guys. Here is chapter 3; I hope you're liking it so far.  
> I would like to quickly thank everyone for the reviews; they really mean a lot to me.

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 3

The story of a little girl trapped eighty feet underground, after having been pushed into an abandoned well, was travelling fast. By Saturday evening, it had spread far and wide throughout New Jersey. It was by no means a breaking story, but it was featured on the evening news on major news stations throughout the city. It seemed that soon everybody in New Jersey knew about the girl in the well.

It had quickly become common knowledge that nine-year-old Louise Belcher had been pushed into a well on Friday evening and remained trapped eighty feet underground; it had also become widely known that a teenage boy had pushed her, but it was still unknown what injuries she had. It had been known from the beginning that there a had been a cave-in, leaving Louise partially buried, and “one wrong move, and that little girl's gonna be buried alive,” as Chief Richards had put it.

The video clips of Bob jumping into the drilling rig, snapping at the police and firemen, plus kneeling next to the well, and talking to his daughter, had been broadcast on several news stations around New Jersey. Many parents sympathised with him and felt his frustration and helplessness, which was enough to keep the story in most newspapers. Unlike Seymour's Bay, where the ongoing operation was constantly on the television news; in the big cities it would be briefly mentioned during the evening news, as quite a few journalists felt that it was pointless reporting when nothing major was happening. There was really not a lot more they could say other than 'girl still trapped in well; rescue workers are still digging.'

However, in Seymour's Bay, live updates were given what seemed like every hour to news stations all over the town, journalists were doing their best to get new information, and Olsen, being the first one there, had the fortune of being given the latest updates first, which she, in turn, would give to her boss.

Most reporters were reluctant to leave the site, as they feared that their places would be taken by the crowd of onlookers, but some of them, as they could not get any more information out of Bob and Linda, had gone to Ocean Avenue, in hopes of talking to some neighbours.

“Oh, yeah, it's definitely tragic,” said Jimmy Pesto, smoothing his hair back as he stood outside his restaurant. “She's a delightful kid; always in here, playing with my sons,” he gestured behind him, smiling. Okay, it wasn't the truth, but it was good for business. “She just loves it in my restaurant, and I hope that they get her out soon.”

“Louise is my best friend after Andy!” squeaked Ollie, clutching his twin.

“Louise is my best friend after Ollie!” Andy cried.

Mort was also interviewed.

“Well, I just couldn't believe it,” he'd said on Saturday evening. “I had no idea the well was there, and I can't believe she's still in there. I really hope they get her out of there soon.”

The two teenage girls who had discovered Louise were interviewed, as well. Jenny and Shannon were standing together near the entrance to Wharf Park, while looking into the camera.

“Well, we had just been to see a movie,” said Jenny, “and we wanted to go down to the pier, and so we took a shortcut through the park. I could hear this high-pitched screaming, and I thought it was a fox or something, so we started looking.”

“Jenny found the well, and the sound was coming from there, so she called down,” said Shannon. “And we heard a voice, and I was, like, so shocked; I couldn't believe it. Louise told us where her dad worked and she said to go and get him. Jenny ran over there, and I stayed with Louise and called the fire department.”

* * *

Bob and Linda knew instantly when they woke up that morning that their youngest daughter was still trapped. They knew because there were no missed calls, no messages, and no officials outside to tell them of the good news.

“She's still in there,” said Linda, standing up and heading into the kitchen. “She's been in there for.. thirty-eight hours now!" she continued, checking the clock briefly and turning to Bob, anguish written all over her face. She began pulling pans and plates out of the cupboards in a kind of frenzied manner, being a little bit louder than she normally would. She needed to do something.

The result of the noise awoke Gene and Tina, and they made their way into the kitchen, fully dressed. “Okay, you kids need to eat,” said Linda, cracking some eggs over the frying pan. If she couldn't help with the rescue efforts, she could at least make sure the rest of her children were taken care of.

The children sat at the table silently, and Bob joined them. Usually, they switched on the television to watch the morning news, but they didn't do that.

When they had finished their breakfast, they immediately headed out, intending to go back to the park, and they were greeted by Carol, who quickly walked down the street towards them.

“Ah, there you are,” she smiled, “I was just coming to get you.”

“We're just going to see Louise,” said Bob. “How far have they gotten?”

“They've gotten twelve inches closer to her,” Carol told them, as they made their way to the police car.

“Only twelve? It's taken them all night to drill one foot? How?”

“Well, the rock is very hard,” said Carol.

“But it won't take too much longer, right? She'll be out by this evening?”

“I'm afraid I don't know that.”

When they arrived back at Wharf Park, they could see that the crowd was still there, although it appeared to be smaller, and the reporters remained, even though they were looking a little worse for wear.

The Belchers were escorted through the crowd, and past the barriers to the well. Tim and Charlie were still there, as was Dr. Cabell. The three of them looked exhausted, but they nonetheless greeted the family with a smile as Bob and Linda knelt down next to the well. Teddy had arrived shortly after, and stood next to the Belcher children.

Tina and Gene looked around at the crowd and saw that their friends from yesterday had returned, but they remained where they were. Soon, a high-pitched, excessive wail came to the siblings' attention. A blonde haired girl was hanging over the railings, kicking her legs, and shrieking.

“What's Millie doing here?” whispered Tina and Gene shook his head.

“We can't let her speak to Louise,” he said.

“That won't be easy,” as Tina pointed, Millie was trying to cross the barriers, but was blocked by officer George.

“You can't come through, little one!” he said, quickly grabbing Millie as she tried to sidestep him.

“Louise is my best friend!” she howled, trying to wriggle out of George's grip. “I need to know she's okay; I need to see her!”

“Louise is fine, but you're gonna have to stay back!” he told her firmly, but Millie wasn't listening.

“ _Let me speak to her!"_ she shrieked, attempting to punch and kick, but George had had enough.

“Stay behind this barrier, or we'll have you removed!” he ordered, placing her on the other side, and walking away. Millie collapsed to the ground and started sobbing, shaking off any attempts at comfort by the other kids.

George stopped next to Tina and Gene on his way back to the well. “It's nice that your friends have come to watch, isn't it?” he said.

“Yeah, except for Millie,” said Gene, before he could stop himself.

“Huh?”

“Millie is not our friend, and she's not Louise's friend. Her best friend is Regular-sized Rudy. Louise doesn't like Millie at all,” said Tina, and George nodded thoughtfully.

“Okay, if she gets to be too much, I'll see if we can get her parents to come and collect her,” he said, and the children nodded gratefully.

Bob and Linda were still next to the well, trying to talk to their daughter, but Louise was not answering.

“She didn't sleep well last night,” Charlie told them. “She only got about two hours uninterrupted.”

“Poor baby,” said Linda.

“Yeah, she spent most of the night bossing us about,” Charlie smiled.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Bob couldn't help but smile as well. “She's been bossy ever since she could sit up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Linda. “Even as a baby, she knew what she wanted. Once, when she was about a year old, and Tina was having a nap, and Louise wanted to play with her. She got all her toys and threw them at Tina. And then jumped on her,” Linda chuckled slightly. “She was such a wriggly baby; always full of energy. When she started crawling, I used to have to put her in a carrier, otherwise she would crawl all around the restaurant, getting under people's feet. She would always try and squirm out of it.”

“And she would decide if it was nap time, not anyone else,” said Bob. “If she didn't wanna take a nap, she would try and climb out of her crib, and wake everyone up.” Charlie laughed.

“Feisty little thing, isn't she?”

“Like you wouldn't believe,” said Linda. “But that's Louise, you know?” The two officers nodded.

“She sounds great,” said Tim.

“She is,” said Bob, his voice cracking slightly. “She's amazing. I mean, she's completely crazy, but she's got a big heart. Just don't tell her I told you that. She's my baby.” It was uncommon for Bob to call his children pet names, that was Linda's thing. But, here it felt appropriate. Louise was the youngest, technically the baby of the family. He knew he wasn't supposed to have favourites, but Louise was just a little bit above Gene and Tina. She was most like him, so they found it easy to bond. He loved all of his children equally, but he always found it hard to say no to Louise. “My baby,” he repeated. He got up, and went over to Teddy, Gene and Tina, suddenly unable to take it. Linda followed soon after, and they hugged tightly.

The chairs that Teddy had brought were still there, and so, the five of them sat down and silently watched the rescue operation. "It's Sunday," said Bob after a while, only just realising. He looked over at his children. "Do you two want to go to school tomorrow?" he asked hesitantly. He knew what the answer was going to be."I mean, Louise could be out by then, but..." he trailed off, not really knowing what to say.

"I wanna stay home," announced Tina, "if Louise gets out today, she'll probably need to go to the hospital, and I wanna stay with her." This caught Linda's attention. The idea of her child being hurt bad enough to require hospital care alarmed her.

"I'm sure she isn't hurt that bad," she said, mainly to reassure herself more than anybody. However, the silence that greeted her told her that the rest of her family did not agree. "Right?"

"She did say her leg and back hurts. And she is trapped under rubble," said Bob carefully, wanting to vomit when he said those words. "And, after all, she is stuck down a well; she's probably a little bumped and bruised.

"Louise will be outta there today," Linda insisted. "She's going to be fine; so I think you two should go to school tomorrow!” Gene's and Tina's jaws dropped.

"Well, what about you and Dad? Are you going to work tomorrow?" Gene soon found his tongue.

"Well, no; your father and I are going to stay with Louise," she told him.

"Well, if you don't have to go to work, then why do Gene and I need to go to school?" said Tina.

"Because you need to go to school."

"And you need to go to work,” said Gene. “You wanna stay with Louise; well, so do we.”

"If you guys get to stay here, then we should as well," Tina continued.

"Louise will be out of there today," Linda repeated, "you and Gene will go to school tomorrow, but your father and I will be with Louise at the hospital, if she needs it.” But then her face softened. “Okay, okay; she'll probably be out of hospital by tomorrow, so you can miss one day of school.”

“Yay,” Tina and Gene smiled at one another.

Their attention was brought back to the well, as yet another driller was pulled up from the tunnel. The man was covered in dust, and he handed his jack hammer to the next volunteer.

"Only two inches," he said to Richards, after removing the mask from his face.

"Why is it taking so long?" Bob demanded, getting to his feet. "And I don't wanna hear about how thick the rock is!" he continued, cutting off Richards as he opened his mouth.

"Sir, I don't know what else to tell you; we're drilling through solid rock here, we can't move any quicker, and if we could, we would."

"You're not moving quick enough!" Bob screamed. He had completely lost it. Louise had been trapped for almost two days, and he just couldn't take it any more. "How many times do I have to tell you? My daughter is stuck down there!" He gestured wildly to the well, "she's been down there for more than, what, forty hours; it's gotta be! You got here two days ago, and Louise still isn't out!" Before he could continue, Teddy grabbed him and led him away. “I wanna stay with my daughter!” he cried, trying to jerk out of Teddy's grip.

"These people are trying to do their job, and you just keep screaming at them!” said Teddy, trying to make his friend see sense.

"They're not doing their job! If they were, Louise would be outta there already!"

"Bob, they're doing everything they can; you just need to sit back and let them do their job," said Teddy, while Linda was fighting to keep silent. She wanted to shout and scream and throw things and physically shake the diggers. They were not going fast enough. She felt sick with worry and fear, it took everything she had to not join in screaming with her husband. Instead, she pulled an anxious looking Gene and Tina into a tight bear hug.

"They're not going fast enough! I just want her out of there!"

"We all do. But screaming at someone who's just trying to do their job isn't going to help. They have it hard enough as it is." Teddy was, for once, speaking words of wisdom, but Bob was in no fit state to pay attention.

" _They_ have it hard? What about us? What about Louise? Do you think she's enjoying being stuck down that well?!"

“Bobby!” Teddy looked shocked. “They want to get her out just as much as you do, okay? All of us want Louise to get out of there as soon as possible; so do the rescue workers, that's why they've been drilling constantly all through the night.” He was just as worried about Louise as they were, but he understood that the diggers could not possibly do any more than what they already were. He knew that they knew what they were doing, and so he decided to step back, much as it pained him, as he wanted to do something to help so very badly, and let them do their jobs. Of course, it was easier for him because Louise wasn't his child, but it still hurt to see her in that situation.

"... Okay," said Bob, wiping his eyes and sniffling. He walked back over to Richards. “I'm.. sorry,” he said sincerely. “I know you're trying your best, and I'm so grateful for it; I really am. I just want my little girl.”

“I understand, sir,” said Richards. “I know it's hard for you, but you'll see her soon.”

Bob took a deep breath, and returned to his seat, followed by his wife, his children, and Teddy. He looked over at the well once more before burying his head in his hands.

* * *

Dr Cabell was re-filling the baby bottle with more sugar water; however, he only filled it a quarter of the way full.

“Why are you only giving her a little bit?” asked Tim, as the doctor prepared to lower the bottle down the well.

“Because I don't want her stomach to be too full,” he explained.

“What, because she might need surgery?” said Charlie, “she might not, as well. But she needs to drink.”

“You don't understand; she could very likely have internal injuries, and if she does, giving her water or anything could be risky. But if she doesn't get water, she'll die, so I just don't wanna give her too much. I'll give her another quarter tonight.”

“Alright, we'll tell her to take it slow,” said Tim after a moment's hesitation. He didn't have any medical training, so he assumed that the doctor knew what he was talking about. But it just felt wrong only giving her a small amount of water. “Louise?” he turned his attention back to the well. “Louise, we're just giving you some more water, okay?”

“ _Great, send it down,”_ she called, and Tim noted that she sounded bored.

“It's only a little bit, so make it last,” he told her.

“ _What?!”_ Louise shrieked so loudly that Tim had to remove the headphones, cringeing. _“Why?!”_

“The doctor's worried it might make you sick,” he said, as Cabell continued to lower the bottle down.

“ _I'm not sick, I'm thirsty! He can't do that!”_

“I'm sorry, honey,” he said. “Just take little sips, and it'll be okay.” But Louise, who had not had anything to drink for almost twelve hours, did not want to take little sips. As soon as the bottle had reached her, she clamped her lips around it, and the sugar water was gone in less than five seconds. She didn't know what that stupid doctor was talking about; she felt fine, but she was still thirsty.

“ _It's all gone! Give me more!”_ she called, looking up.

“Louise!” Tim called exasperatedly, biting his lip. “That had to last you!”

“ _Well, I'm thirsty, I told you! I want more!”_ Tim looked up at the doctor.

“Can't you give her any more?” he asked, but Cabell shook his head.

“I'm afraid not. This isn't what I want,” he added, after seeing Tim and Charlie's faces. “I'm doing what I can to keep her alive.”

“Louise, I'm afraid that's it for the moment. We'll get you some more soon,” he lied, bracing himself for her reaction.

“ _I want it now! Give me some water!”_

“Louise, you'll have to wait, I'm sorry!”

* * *

Deputy Police Chief Jack Davis and Fire Chief James Richards were stood in front of a news camera a few hours later, a sheet of paper in Davis's hand, both of them wearing hard hats. Olsen Benner, who was standing next to the camera, gestured to them, and Davis started speaking.

"I'm Deputy Police Chief Jack Davis," he introduced himself. "Myself and Fire Chief Richards here are requesting some help. We have a nine-year-old girl trapped in an abandoned 14-inch water well at Wharf Park, Seymour's Bay; she's been there since Friday, and we are currently drilling a rescue shaft to reach her. We have come upon solid rock, basalt, which we are trying to dig through. Now, our rescue services are doing their best, but we need help. We are issuing a nationwide call for any drillers that have experience with hard rock to come and lend a hand."

Once he finished speaking and the camera turned off, Davis turned to Richards, but neither of them spoke. They knew they were not equipped for this, and if they did not get some better equipment soon, it would be several days until they would be able to reach Louise. They were already struggling; the seemingly impenetrable rock would snap off jackhammer drill bits as if they were pencil leads. Diggers would come up from the shaft after having only dug an inch and complain that they needed better equipment; the drills would bounce off the rock as if they were hitting steel, causing sparks to fly into the shaft.

Hopefully, the appeal would equip them with better tools and more experienced drillers sooner rather than later.

* * *

Gene and Tina were sat with their friends at the barriers, watching the proceedings, carefully ignoring the nearby crumpled, shaking form of Millie.

“Are you guys going to school tomorrow?” asked Regular-sized Rudy.

“No,” said Gene, “Mom and Dad are gonna let us stay here.”

“Do they think she'll still be in there?” said Jimmy Jr.

“They think they'll get her out today, but they're gonna let us stay home so we can see her,” Tina told him.

“.. Will she be okay?” asked Regular-sized Rudy after a slight hesitation.

“I think so,” said Tina. “Mom and Dad told us that she's been bossing everyone around,” and Rudy smiled upon hearing that.

“So, what's happening with the kid that pushed her in?” asked Zeke

“I don't know,” said Gene. “We haven't heard anything.”

“Did you see the video? They played it on the news this morning,” said Jimmy Jr. “Are the police gonna speak to him or something?”

“Don't know,” Gene repeated, “Dad told me that the police have seen it, and they'll decide what to do.”

“What do you want them to do?” asked Regular-sized Rudy.

“Jail?” Tina suggested, and Gene nodded.

“Yeah! If he hadn't done this, she wouldn't be in there!” said Gene, and the other children nodded in agreement, before a low moan from Millie caught their attention.

“I just hope they get her out of there before it's too late!” she cried, wiping her eyes. “She must be so scared; I can help her! Why won't they let me talk to her?!”

“They won't let us talk to her, either,” said Regular-sized Rudy.

“You don't count!” Millie shrieked.

“Okay, ouch,” Rudy muttered.

“Louise is everything to me! I need to speak to her! Oh, God, if she dies, I don't know what I'm gonna do! Oh, my God, what if she dies? What if she dies?!”

“Shut up!” Zeke hissed, glancing over at Gene and Tina.

“Louise is not gonna die!” Gene insisted. “She's gonna get outta there soon!”

“I just wanna talk to her!” Millie sobbed. “I need to hear her voice!” Tina could only groan and bury her head in her hand.

* * *

Louise had her head resting against the well wall; looking annoyed, and tired. If she had the space, and the freedom, she would be kicking the wall. She didn't know what was worse; the tight, cramped space, or the bricks. The bricks, she decided; they were the reason she was still trapped.

She sighed, screwing up her face at the pain in her legs, her arms, unable to even shift in her discomfort.

“ _How long is it gonna take? I want to get out!”_ she called, not as loudly or angrily as she had previously.

“It won't be long,” called that voice. What was his name? Tom? Something like that.

“ _You keep saying that! I wanna know exactly how long!”_

“Well, we don't know exactly how long. With luck, it'll be by tonight.”

“ _What time is it now?”_

“It's – uh – ten past two.”

“ _So, I've got.. six hours? Maybe less?”_

“We hope so.”

“ _Okay,”_ Louise nodded. A time, a definitive timestamp on when she would be free was what she needed. _“How long have I been in here?”_

“Uh – 44 hours.” Louise's jaw dropped.

“ _That long?”_ She couldn't believe it. _“Want to get out.”_ She hesitated. _“Wish I could see what it's like up there,”_ she said after a while.

“Well, there's lots of people up here. There's firemen, paramedics; there's news reporters, and policemen, and a huge digging machine. There's lots of people digging over to you.”

“ _How many people are there?”_

“I'd say around 200. And there's all these people that have come to watch.”

“ _Wow,”_ Louise muttered. She still wasn't too happy about that, but at this moment in time, she didn't really care. She just wanted to get out. _“Isn't there a quicker way to do this?”_

“Afraid not, honey.”

“ _Fine.”_ They both fell silent. _“Hey, mist – what's your name again?”_

“It's Tim.” Ah. Close enough.

“ _Can I have some more water? I'm thirsty.”_

“Let me check with the doctor.” Louise looked up at the microphone and speaker as she waited. She suddenly felt rather drained. Despite this, her frustration was bubbling underneath the surface. “He says that he'll give you more later on.”

“ _I want it now!”_

“I'm sorry, Louise. We have to listen to the doctor.”

“ _No, you don't!”_ Overtired and afraid, Louise shook her head, her face contorted with anger and distress. _“You just want me to suffer, don't you?”_

“That's not true, sweetie.”

“ _Yes, it is! You don't care about me! I bet you're not even digging. You don't want me to get out!”_

“We all want you to get out, Louise,” Tim assured her. “We're drilling every second because we wanna help you.”

“ _You're lying!”_ came the tired, whiny voice.

“I'm telling you the truth; I cross my heart and hope to die.”

“ _I-want-to-get-out-get-me-out-how-long-is-it-gonna-take-I-want-to-get-out,”_ she ordered tiredly, gently banging the back of her head on the well wall with every syllable.

“Excuse me,” Tim looked up to see Linda, and she was gesturing for the headphones and microphone, and he passed them to her. “Louise, baby, stop hitting your head!” she called.

“How did you know?” asked Tim, who had been wondering what the thumping sound was.

“I was watching her on the camera,” Linda explained, not taking her eyes off the well. “Louise, stop it! You're gonna hurt yourself.”

“ _I wanna get out!”_ she moaned.

“Oh, baby, I know, but it won't be long now.”

“ _That's what everyone says. I don't wanna wait any more.”_

“We don't wanna wait, either, sweetie, but I'm afraid we're gonna have to.”

“ _No!”_ Louise whined, her eyes tightly shut.

“Right, baby, you're tired; try and get some sleep,” said Linda, recognising the telltale signs in her daughter's voice.

“ _Not gonna sleep. Hmph!”_

“You'll feel better once you've had a nap.”

“ _No.”_

“Come on, Louise, try and go to sleep.”

“ _Don't tell me what to do.”_

“It'll be good for you,” but Linda, as always, could not coerce her.

“ _No!”_

“Louise?” Charlie leaned into the microphone. “What can we do for you? Can we read you some stories or something to distract you? Anything like that?”

“You know, there's some books in the ranger's station,” said Tim.

“Do you want us to read you a story?” asked Charlie, feeling that it would be good for her. 

“ _Don't like stories,”_ Louise muttered unconvincingly.

“You don't? Can we read you some, anyway? To keep you entertained?”

“ _... Fine.”_ At Charlie's nod, Tim got up and headed toward the station. He was extremely grateful for the chance to stretch his legs.

“ _I'm hungry,”_ Louise muttered after a while, her eyes still closed. _“Want some cookies.”_ She suddenly had the urge for some hot, fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. She could almost smell them, and she actually salivated. _“I want food.”_ Upon hearing that, Linda could only pass the equipment to Charlie. That was too much for her.

“She wants to eat,” the worn-out mother whispered.

“We can't give you any food, Louise.”

“ _Why?”_

“The doctor doesn't think it's a good idea. If you choke, then we can't help you.”

“ _I'm not a baby; I won't choke.”_

“If you have any.. injuries, then you could,” he said delicately, not wanting to frighten her. “We want to keep you safe.” Louise only whined in response. Why were they doing this to her? They seemed very eager to make her suffer, but there wasn't anything she could do. She didn't have the energy to argue. She hit her head against the wall once more, screwing up her face, and closing her eyes.

* * *

The park soon started to swell as experienced drillers began to arrive. A large group of men, carrying their own drills, gloves, hard hats, some of them carrying their own harnessing equipment, had arrived when they saw the public appeal for help.

Many of them had children and it was easy for them to put themselves in the shoes of Bob and Linda; therefore they wanted to help, just as they would want others to help them if they were in a similar situation.

The group had made their way to the front of the barriers, causing some annoyance among the reporters, who were still gathered at the front.

Davis and Richards approached the barriers, eyeing the would-be volunteers.

"What we need," Richards began loudly, "are drillers who have experience with hard rock, and mending drill bits." Most, if not all of the men crossed the barriers and immediately went over to the rescue shaft where they were put to task.

A man was already down the hole, drilling, and the new batch of volunteers crowded around the hole, looking down into it.

"How many of you can weld drill bits?" asked Davis and three of the burly men stepped forward. "Right," he beckoned them over to a flatbed truck where a small pile of broken jackhammers lay.

None of the previous workers had the expertise to fix the drills, so they had simply called in for news ones whenever they broke. "There's two jobs to be done here," Davis instructed, as the men gathered around the truck. "There are some drill bits that need to be sharpened; the diamond ones, and there's drills that need to be fixed," Davis turned to Josh Tate, one of the more experienced drillers, who, he knew, would be able to explain it better than he could.

"We need to build up these drill bits with tungsten carbide," began Josh, his bright blue eyes looking intently at the men in front of him. His father used to explore caves as a hobby, and Josh was the manager of a construction and development company, so he knew what he was doing. When he had heard about the girl in the well, he had come to where he might be needed. "It's stronger, so it won't break so easy. What you do is, you melt the edges of the bit, weld the carbide onto it, and then place it into a bucket of oil for at least thirty minutes. We also have chisels, and what we're doing is making them longer by welding two together; it gives you better traction. And, when you're drilling, other workers will be welding; we will rotate."

"Thank you, Josh," said Davis. "Does anyone have any questions?" He looked around at the men, who shook their heads, and then he ordered them to get moving.

In the rescue shaft, the volunteers were working in 30 - 40-minute shifts. As it was so small, only one digger was permitted to go down at a time. They would then start by drilling the outline of the tunnel so that they knew how wide it had to be; it had to be big enough for both a paramedic and a nine-year-old girl. Therefore, the tunnel was being drilled to be almost as wide as the rescue shaft. Once the outline had been made, the workers could then start drilling the rest of the tunnel, first attempting to make a dent in the rock, and then widening the rest of the tunnel. They were making progress inch by inch.

When a significant dent in the rock was made, the drillers would again dig the outline, being sure to keep it the same size. It soon began to feel as if they were drilling in one spot.

While the workers were drilling underground, the rest of the volunteers, distinguishable from the fire and police crews only by their high visibility vests, remained above ground, sharpening and welding drill bits for the next digger.

* * *

Bob looked over at his wife, who was knelt by the well, talking to Louise. Both he and Linda felt so helpless, and Bob felt like he couldn't talk to his wife; he had his own fears about Louise dying in the well before they could get to her. He had tried to reassure his wife that their daughter was going to be okay, but he was struggling to believe it.

With each passing moment, the situation seemed to become more and more serious.

He needed to be strong for his wife and family; it was now time for him to be rational, and logical and calm. He wanted to break down and cry, but he felt that if he did, then everything else would fall apart, so he did his best to keep his feelings in check. All he could do was think about the moment when Louise would get out of the well.

When Linda returned, Bob remained where he was, standing silently; Linda felt numb.

"Linda?" asked Bob tentatively. "Is everything okay?"

"I just don't know what to do," she said desperately. "I need to do something to help my baby! I know I should be doing something, but I can't; they won't let me go down and dig, they won't let me operate the crane; they won't let me do anything!"

"But we can talk to her," said Bob, trying not to fall apart. "I think Louise would rather hear us than some strangers."

"It doesn't feel like enough!" Linda continued. "We keep telling her that we're going to get her out, but it's so slow... I just know I should be doing more to help her."

"Look, Linda, none of us can do anything more than what we are; I bet hearing our voices is a real comfort to Louise because she knows that we're there for her, and when they get her out, we're gonna be standing right there, and the first thing Louise'll see will be our smiling faces."

* * *

The kids remained on the ground at the front of the barriers, watching silently. Millie had calmed somewhat, but she was shaking with worry.

“I wonder how long it'll be,” said Regular-sized Rudy after a while.

“Hopefully, it's by this evening,” Zeke didn't look too sure, though.

“It's got to be soon,” said Millie frantically. “She can't stay down there much longer!”

“I'm sure she's fine,” Zeke assured her. 

“You don't know!” she wailed. “How can you know? They won't tell us anything!”

“Whoa, calm down, girl! Just tryna be positive.”

“Don't tell me to calm down! I'm so afraid! I'm scared she's going to die, okay!" Millie snapped, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Girl, she ain't going to die," Zeke reassured her, placing his arm around the girl's shoulders, but Millie shrugged it off.

"How do you know that?! You can't possibly know that! She could have broken ribs, or a fractured skull, or -"

“Well, she ain't got that.” Zeke could admit he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he knew that if Louise had some serious injuries like that, they would have heard about it. There was a doctor; he'd be able to tell.

"The well is so small -" Millie was cut off yet again.

"If it were too small, Louise wouldn't be making any sounds at all," Zeke was on a roll; he was quite proud of himself. "Millie, listen to me, girl; she's gonna be fine."

"You can't know that," Millie argued.

"I know we can't, but we have to believe it will be," said Harley.

“Yes! You're right! If we believe, she'll be fine!” Millie clasped her hands together and closed her eyes tightly.

“If she was injured, they'd say, right?” asked Regular-sized Rudy quietly.

“I reckon so,” said Zeke. “They'd probably say it so more people would come and help, right?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Rudy looked over at the well. It seemed that no matter how many times he saw it, it still didn't seem real. He saw one of the policemen walk over to the well, and speaking to the other officer with headphones. Rudy knew he was a higher rank because of his badge, and waved his arm, getting the man's attention.

“What is it?” Davis asked kindly, walking over to the children, and crouching down.

“Is – is she alright?” he asked, looking up the chief.

“She's fine,” he assured the kids, “and we're working hard to get her out.”

“Is she really okay?” and Davis could see the worry in the poor boy's face.

“Right now, she's really tired, and she's bad-tempered and grumpy because of it. She keeps asking to get out.” He smiled comfortingly. “She's warm, she's got oxygen, and water. She's not in danger.” Rudy sighed in relief; that made him feel a bit better.

“Can we talk to her?” Perhaps hearing her voice would help ease the worry. 

“I'm afraid we can't do that,” said Davis, looking apologetic.

“Why not?!” Millie wailed.

“Well, too many people at once might overwhelm her, the doctor doesn't want her to get too.. emotional; he wants her to conserve her energy. Besides, if we let you pass the barriers, then everyone else will want to, and that wouldn't be good.”

“Why not?” asked Harley.

“We can't have unauthorised people running around over there; they might damage the equipment, and get in the way.”

“Okay,” was all Rudy said.

“If you guys want, I can pass on a message to her,” Davis offered.

“Okay,” that was the next best thing, Rudy supposed. “Um, could you tell her that we hope she gets out soon, and that we can't wait to see her?”

“Of course I will,” he promised. “I've got something to attend to right now, but I'll tell her soon. And I'll let you know what she says.”

“Thanks,” Rudy nodded, and the chief walked away.

* * *

Tina and Gene were back with their family; they were sitting in the camp chairs while Teddy told them stories to pass the time. They were only half-listening, as their attention was mainly focused on the well, but that was what they usually did whenever Teddy told stories. It wasn't that he was boring, but he tended to ramble on and on.

Bob and Linda were sat by the well, wanting to be near Louise.

Tim had a copy of the first “Harry Potter” book and was reading it to her. He and Charlie agreed that it was best to keep her occupied, and reading was the easiest way to do that.

Louise was not a Harry Potter fan, and so she wasn't listening to the story. Instead, she was wriggling her shoulders, trying to break free of the rubble. She had been doing this countless times over the past few days, but she just couldn't shift the brick. Sighing, she gave up, and rested her head against the wall. She supposed it wouldn't kill her to listen to the story about the boy wizard.

Tim and Charlie took it in turns reading, speaking into the microphone, while Bob and Linda shared the headphones. Their daughter didn't say much, and every so often, either Tim or Charlie would ask her if she was okay, and Louise would respond, her tone more bored than irritable.

As the story went on and on, Louise found herself becoming interested, and wanting to find out what was going to happen next. She especially liked the part with the three-headed dog.

“ _Wow, a giant dog with three heads!”_ she muttered, wishing that a real one existed, and looking over at Kuchi Kopi. _“Did you hear that, Kuchi?”_ Bob and Linda couldn't help but smile when they heard her talking to her precious toy.

“At least having Kuchi Kopi down there is helping,” said Bob, and Linda nodded.

“Yeah, at least it's something familiar with her.”

Louise looked up at the well opening once again, looking at the equipment surrounding her. She wondered if she could grab one of them with her mouth, and they pulled it up, would she get out of the well? Or would it just pull all of her teeth out? The thought of it made Louise cringe, so she put it out of her mind.

She listened to the story for a little while longer, until she saw that Kuchi Kopi's neon glow was rapidly getting dimmer and dimmer.

“ _No. No. No, no, no!”_ she cried as the night light went out, leaving just the single light hanging from above. She began to scream, not from fear, but from frustration, anger, and desperation.

“Louise? Louise, what's wrong?!” Bob yelled, grabbing the microphone after hearing his little girl screaming. “Louise?!” Richards and Davis came rushing over, as did Cabell, who grabbed the headphones and started listening to her.

“What is it?” asked Tim, as Richards and Davis crouched down beside them.

“I don't know; she's just screaming!” said Bob. “Louise, tell me what the matter is!” he cried.

“ _Kuchi Kopi! Kuchi Kopi!”_ she shrieked, staring at her beloved toy.

“She's saying 'Kuchi Kopi',” Cabell revealed, handing the headphones to Linda. “What's that?”

“It's her night light,” said Bob, both he and Linda sagging in relief. Linda placed a hand over her heart.

“Sweetie, what's wrong with Kuchi Kopi?” called Linda.

“ _He needs new batteries! They're dead! Give him some new batteries!”_ Louise screamed.

“Okay, baby, okay, we will,” Linda told her. “I'll just bring him up, okay?”

“ _Hurry up!”_ the little girl screeched as Tim pulled the cord that Kuchi Kopi was attached to, and began pulling it up. Louise looked up as Kuchi inched away from her. _“Bye, Kuchi,”_ she called. He was all she had down here, and now he was gone. She was alone. _“Don't be too long!”_ she told her mother. _“I need him!”_

“Okay, sweetie!” called Linda. When Kuchi Kopi had arrived at the surface, Linda grabbed him and tore off through the park.

“Dad?” came Tina's small voice. Bob looked round to see her and Gene looking worried. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing, Tina,” he gestured for them to come over, which they did, followed by Teddy. “The batteries in Kuchi Kopi ran out, so your mother went to get some new ones.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Do you wanna talk to her?” asked Bob, and Tina nodded. He gave her the headphones, and she picked up the microphone.

“Hi, Louise,” she said awkwardly.

“ _Tina?”_ Louise looked up once again, feeling fidgety without her night light.

“Yeah, it's me. I've missed talking to you.”

“ _Thanks, I've missed talking to you, too,”_ Louise admitted.

“Hey, when they get you out, we can do something. Something you wanna do,” Tina said, wanting desperately to cheer her little sister up. “We could go to the arcade, or go watch a movie. Anything you want.”

“ _That'll be cool,”_ said Louise.

“We can do something, too,” Gene told her. “We could... get some ice cream, or... whatever you wanna do.”

“ _That's great. … Thanks,”_ Louise said, looking up at the well opening, wanting nothing more than to be out.

Teddy approached and crouched down next to them.

“How you doing, Louise?” he called. He was the only one who hadn't yet spoken to her. He knew he should; Louise was in a very dangerous situation, and Teddy knew he should be comforting his temporary niece like the rest of the family, but he struggled to do it. Not that he didn't care about Louise; he loved those children like they were his own, but Teddy was afraid. If he was honest with himself, he was afraid that Louise was going to die, and the thought of hearing her last words terrified him; he didn't think he would be able to live with that. That was why he remained back, and kept talking to Bob and Linda. He desperately wished he could do something other than what he was.

“ _Is that Teddy?”_

“Yeah, it's me.”

“ _How long have you been there?”_

“I've been here the whole time,” he told her.

“ _Oh.”_

“Yeah, we're just waiting to see you.”

“ _That's nice,”_ Louise sounded a bit tired, but they didn't want to leave her.

A few moments later, Linda came back with Kuchi Kopi.

“Here you go,” she handed the night light to Tim. “I also brought some extra batteries, just in case.”

“Okay, thanks,” said Tim, reattaching the cord to Kuchi Kopi, switching him on, and lowering him back down the well.

“Louise, baby?” Linda called, “I've brought Kuchi Kopi back, and we're just bringing him down to you, okay?”

“ _Does he have new batteries?”_ she asked, looking up.

“Yes, and we brought extra ones.”

“ _Okay, good,”_ Louise continued to look up, waiting for Kuchi Kopi. The appearance of her night light made her smile. _“Kuchi!”_ she grinned as he once again rested in front of her. She was immensely glad to see him again; having him there made being trapped that little bit easier to bear. _“Hi, Kuchi, I've missed you,”_ she told him. _“I'm glad you're back. Make sure you last this time,”_ she said sternly.

At surface level, Linda smiled to herself upon hearing Louise. She heard her daughter yawning, and so she gestured for her family and Teddy to leave so that Louise could get some sleep.

Bob bypassed the chairs and slowly approached the group of diggers as they crowded around the rescue shaft. He passed the well in which his daughter was trapped and made his way over the men. Most of them recognised him immediately and looked at the man as he joined their circle.

"I - I wanna thank all of you for your help," said Bob sincerely. "Seriously; you have no idea what this means to us." He still felt awful for snapping at Richards earlier, and he wanted to do something to let the volunteers know how grateful he was.

"We're just doing our jobs, sir," said one driller, who had placed the drill he was mending to one side and joined his co-workers.

"I can't tell you how much this means to us," Bob continued, needing to express how grateful he was. "I mean, you've been working non-stop here, and you don't even know us."

"Anyone else would do the same thing," said Josh. "We just want to help." The rest of the diggers nodded in agreement.

"So, uh, how - how far have you got?" he asked tentatively.

"Well, we're still drilling the tunnel," began Josh needlessly. "I know the progress seems slow, but we're going to get her."

"You will?"

"We're going to do everything we possibly can to get that girl out," Josh assured him, and Bob thanked the workers once again, before making his way back to his family. Like Linda, he wanted to help Louise, and since they were unable to dig, Bob felt like this was the only thing he could do to help.

The park was really becoming cramped; the drilling rig took up a lot of the space; the ambulance was still parked in the rear, most of the personnel were gathered around the well, there was a flatbed truck next to the ambulance, containing the tanks of oxygen and warm air that were being constantly pumped into the well; another flatbed truck was nearby, where the workers were fixing the rescue tools. Added to this, the several floodlights, the air compressors, the ten-inch wide canvas tubes providing the drillers with ventilation that snaked across the ground, and the crowd of onlookers all contributed to the closed-in feeling.

After a digger's shift was up, and they were hoisted back up to the surface, he would have to climb out of his harness, which consisted of straps over the chest, a belt, and leg straps, the next man would have to be rigged up, and be checked to make sure the lines were secure, before he would go down the hole and repeat the process.

The hours melted away.

* * *

Davis approached Tim and Charlie, and crouched down next to them.

“How's she doing?” he asked.

“Better now that she has her night light back,” said Tim.

“She's calmed down?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay good.” Something about the fact that she had a night light made him feel upset; it showed just how young she was. “Well, do your best to keep her calm; remember what the doctor said; don't let her waste energy.”

“Will do, sir.”

“Let me speak to her quickly; some of her friends had a message.” Charlie passed him the headphones, and Davis took the microphone. “Hello, Louise?”

“ _Who's that?”_ she asked, and he chuckled a bit.

“My name's Jack Davis; I'm a chief. I was talking to your friends earlier, and they gave me a message for you,” he told her.

“ _What is it?”_

“They said to tell you that they miss you, and hope you get out soon. Do you have anything you want me to tell them?”

_“Um, maybe to look for someone who can actually finish digging before the year is out?”_ she asked grumpily, and Davis smiled sadly.

“I will,” he said, before handing the listening equipment back to Charlie, glancing over at the flat-bed truck full of dulled and broken drills. “Poor kid,” he said to himself.

As yet another driller was brought to the surface, Davis approached Richards and stood beside him silently. “If we don't get better tools, we're not gonna get to her in time,” he said after a while. Richards nodded.

“Should we do another appeal?” he asked.

“I don't see any other choice,” said Davis.

“Okay, well, I'll speak to the reporter, and see what we can do. It shouldn't be a problem,” he said.

While Richards went to speak to Olsen Benner, Davis quickly wrote down a rough outline of what they should say.

Richards soon returned with the reporter and cameraman in tow. “She said we can make the appeal right now,” he told Davis as Olsen and Brian quickly got set up.

“Okay, good; the sooner, the better,” said Davis, as he handed Richards the paper, who then scanned it.

“Okay, guys, we're almost good to go. Are you ready?” Olsen called from her perch next to them, with the camera focused on her, and the two men nodded. She paused for a moment, before she signalled to Brian that she was ready to go. “This is Olsen Benner reporting live from Wharf Park,” she began professionally, “I'm here with the Police and Fire Chiefs of Seymour's Bay, who are supervising the ongoing rescue attempt of Louise Belcher. They are both due to make another appeal for help.” At that point, the camera panned over to the men. Davis cleared his throat and began speaking.

“I know we've already asked for help once,” he started, “and we're extremely grateful to everyone, but we do need more help. We've been digging non-stop ever since Friday, and we're not even halfway there. So, once again, we are putting out a nationwide call for help. We need better drills, ones that can quickly dig through basalt. This rock is so tough that it snaps diamond-tipped drills. We don't know how much longer that little girl can survive, so we're asking anyone that can help us, to please come and lend a hand.”

* * *

About an hour later, Bob and Linda decided to take the children home, and Teddy went with them this time. Louise had been trapped for 50 hours now, but their other children needed to get some sleep.

Just as before, they were driven home, this time by Carol, who joined them inside.

Teddy kept Bob company in the kitchen while he made dinner, while Carol sat with Linda, Gene and Tina in the living room.

Dinner was another silent affair, and when they had finished, they again retreated to the living room, and sat together in silence.

“Do you think Louise is scared?” asked Tina in a small voice. She knew that if she were the one stuck in the well, she would be terrified. But, try as she might, she just couldn't imagine Louise being scared over anything. It was just who she was. But lately, Louise had been sounding rather subdued, and it caused Tina to wonder.

“I think anyone would be,” said Bob, his voice slightly tense. It was the worst thing for a parent; your child being scared, and you being unable to do anything for them. 

“How long will it be until they get her out?” asked Tina.

“I don't know,” said Bob, “I hope it'll be soon.”

“The Police and Fire Chiefs are putting out another appeal,” Carol told them. “They're asking for better drills, ones that should speed up the digging process.”

“I hope they arrive soon,” said Linda. “Really soon.”

"Louise is going to be fine," said Gene determinedly to his mother.

"Yes. Yes, of course she will," she gasped. "She's always been fine." The six sat there in silence for a while.

“Remember when she stole Ringo from the essential oils party?” said Tina, a slight smile coming to her face.

“Remember? I'll never forget telling her we had to take it back,” said Bob, managing to chuckle, as did the rest of his family. It hadn't been easy; Louise had taken the puppy and hidden from her family. Bob had thought he knew where every possible hiding place in the house was, but he couldn't find her anywhere. It turned out that she had squeezed herself into one of the kitchen cupboards, Ringo clutched tightly in her arms. Bob only found her when she started to gush over the puppy, unable to resist his cuteness. Getting her to let go of the dog (and getting her out of the cupboard) had been the next challenge. It had been well and truly a family effort; Linda trying to prise Ringo out of Louise's iron grip, while Bob, Gene and Tina held onto Louise. Then there was the whole hiding-Dad's-keys debacle, to try and ensure that Bob wouldn't be able to take Ringo home.

It had been a long night.

“What about when she glued Dad to the toilet?” grinned Gene.

“Or when she put salt in all the glasses at New Years?” Linda couldn't help but smile. “I remember when she was born,” she said after a while. “Aunt Gayle was looking after you, and your father was at the hospital with me. You guys were so excited about having a baby sister. Louise was almost three weeks early, and it was so lucky that Gayle was there so Bob could drive me to the hospital. They wouldn't let him the delivery room because of how he gets around blood.”

“Was Dad like that when we were born?” asked Gene, and Linda nodded.

“He was in the room when Tina was born, and he fainted, so for Gene and Louise, he waited outside. So, they got Louise all cleaned up, and they gave her to me, and they called Bob in,” Linda began to reminisce.

_Bob entered the room and saw his wife lying in the hospital bed, a tiny bundle in her arms._

“ _Here she is, Bobby,” an exhausted Linda smiled as Bob approached her. “Do you wanna hold her?” To her surprise, Bob looked uneasy._

“ _She's so tiny,” he said, wary about dropping her, but Linda held out their baby, and Bob tentatively took her in his arms. He looked down at his daughter's tiny, little face. Her eyes were closed, and a tuft of black hair peeked out from underneath her hospital issued pink cap. Her round cheeks were rosy, and her little rosebud mouth was closed. One tiny hand poked out from under the blanket she was swaddled in. It was like holding a doll. “She's beautiful,” Bob choked, tears welling up in his eyes. “Lin, she's gonna look just like you.” Linda smiled again._

“ _So, what are you gonna call her?” she asked, causing Bob to look over at her._

“ _No, it's your turn; I named the last one,” he said, and Linda waved her hand._

“ _Yeah, but I've already named our first girl; you can name her.” Bob smiled and looked back down at the baby. He looked into her face, only one option coming to him._

“ _Louise,” he said, and Linda gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth._

“ _Bobby!” Now her eyes were welling with tears. “Awww, that's so sweet.”_

“ _It suits her,” said Bob. “My little Louise.”_

“ _You know,” Linda began, “she'd be so proud that you named your daughter after her.” The couple shared a smile, and Bob sat on the edge of the bed, and they both gazed at their new baby._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done! What did you think?
> 
> I know it may seem like Bob and Linda are being a bit inconsistent with the way they're acting, but they're both trying to be strong for each other, and falling apart a little bit, simultaneously. I hope that that's clear from reading it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! Here I am back with the next chapter. It was supposed to be uploaded tomorrow, but I have to work all day, and I wouldn't have had the time, so I thought I'd post a day early.

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 4

The story of Louise in the well had become the talk of the town; groups of women discussed the slow rescue operation over coffee or at the hairdressers'; men at work would mention it as they stood around the water cooler under the pretext of getting a drink; kids would discuss it with friends as they played games and ran around outside. It was perhaps the most interesting thing to ever happen in the small town, which drew the attention of a larger audience. As was the case in Seymour's Bay, families in Trenton, Vineland, and even Philadelphia would sit down after dinner and switch on the nightly news to see how the girl in the well was faring, hoping that she would be rescued soon.

* * *

It was a typical morning at Wagstaff Middle School; teachers marching briskly, downing the last of their coffee; students were chattering amicably, pushing, clamouring, some dawdling, some rushing to get to their class on time, making last-minute dashes to their lockers, before the final bell rang.

Ms LaBonz, who taught first period English, sat impatiently behind her desk as her class entered, chattering away as usual, taking their seats and continuing to talk about their respective weekends, most of them completely ignoring the teacher, who sat silently.

Eventually, row by row, the students settled, and LaBonz began to take the register, satisfied with the level of quiet.

"John?" she called, looking up at the student in question.

"Here."

"Sarah?"

"Here, miss."

"Louise?" When she did not get an answer, she looked up and found Louise's desk empty. "Where is Louise?!" she huffed, her brown eyes scanning the room, sighing heavily.

"Didn't you hear? She fell down a well," said Regular-sized Rudy, raising his hand. He had wanted to miss school that day, to go and watch the rescue efforts, but his mother wouldn't hear of it.

"What?"

"Yeah, she fell down on Friday, and they still haven't gotten her out."

"Okay, then," Ms LaBonz continued to take the register, not believing him. Although she owned a television, she rarely watched the news, nor did she follow the news online. She was thinking of a wishing well, and was actually disappointed that Louise had not been able to come up with a better excuse for her absence, and she made a mental note to phone the girl's parents.

However, she was not able to teach much during the lesson, for the discussion had turned to Louise.

"I can't believe she's been in a well for three days. She must be so scared; I would be scared, because I don't like the dark, or being underground, and my cat wouldn't be there with me, so I would hate it," said Harley, shaking her head.

"I just heard about it this morning,” said John. “I didn't think it was true. How come they haven't got her out?”

“She's buried in rubble,” Rudy told him, “so they have to dig.”

"Well, even so; how can it take three days to get someone out of a well?" asked Sarah, and the topic of Louise in the well continued all throughout the lesson, despite LaBonz's efforts to maintain order and she was extremely thankful when the bell rang, and she was able to go to the seclusion of the sacred teachers' lounge.

“What a morning!” she huffed, immediately pouring herself a coffee. “Those kids just would not shut up! Something about Louise Belcher being in a well.” She looked around at all the other teachers in the room, and they all stared back at her, the few that didn't know not quite knowing what to make of this news.

“Oh, I heard about that, as well,” said Ms Schnur. “Everyone's talking about it. Sounds crazy, right?”

“I heard that too,” said Frond, who had crept up on the edge of the group. “I didn't really believe it, but apparently, her brother and sister aren't here either.”

"It does sound a little far fetched," said LaBonz.

Frond picked up the phone and began to dial, intending to call the Belcher home.

"No answer," he said after a while, hanging up. LaBonz picked up the remote and aimed it at the television, flicking through the channels. When she reached the local news channel, she stopped and the teachers watched the screen silently, waiting.

 _"Welcome to the midday news, I'm Valerie Hope,"_ said the young, attractive brunette on the screen. They listened to her talk for a while, before she mentioned Louise and a photo of the girl appeared above her head. _"And the rescue efforts to free nine-year-old Louise Belcher from an abandoned well continues. The little girl was pushed into the well on Friday evening, and remains partially buried in rubble._ _Reporter Olsen Benner is live at the scene. Olsen?"_

The scene then cut to the Wharf Park, where Olsen was standing near the well. At this point, the camera panned down to the well, and all of the teachers' jaws dropped, unable to believe the size of the well. LaBonz couldn't quite believe it, but then the camera panned over to the Belcher family, and she then knew it to be true.

“Well, we'll need to give an assembly, to inform the children,” Frond decided.

“But they already know what's happening,” said Ms Schnur.

“Yes, but some children are going to be a bit frightened about all this,” said Frond. “This is a freak accident, and we need to let the kids know there's nothing to worry about.”

“Well...” the teachers looked over at Principal Spoors.

“It might be a good idea,” said Coach Blevins.

“Alright, then, do it,” said Ms LaBonz, after downing her coffee. “Otherwise, the kids won't shut up about it in class.”

“Okay, an assembly today,” said Principal Spoors, “just be brief, don't go into too much detail, and tell the kids to not bother the family.” Frond nodded and left to prepare.

* * *

At Huxley High School, Logan opened his locker and searched for his books. Upon finding them, he slammed the locker closed, before two pretty girls caught his eye.

“'Sup, ladies?” he grinned, placing one hand behind his head and leaning against the locker. They did not answer him; instead, they pulled a face and rolled their eyes. “Hey, what's all that for?” he asked, when they strolled right by him.

“What are you even doing here, Logan?” one asked, barely turning around to look at him.

“Yeah, shouldn't you be out pushing little girls into wells?” called her friend, before they continued walking down the hall. Logan felt his face burning as the nearby students sniggered and stared.

“It was an _accident!”_ he yelled at their retreating forms, before marching to his first class, stamping his feet all the while.

It seemed that he couldn't get away from Louise, no matter what. Not unlike Wagstaff Elementary, Huxley High had their own news broadcast. However, their show was about actual news topics, focusing on what was happening in the community.

At the end of second period, the television was switched on, and students laid down their pens to watch the stories.

“Welcome to the Huxley High News,” said co-anchor Phoebe. “The big story everyone's talking about is happening in Wharf Park right now.”

“That's right,” said co-anchor Kate. “A student at Wagstaff Elementary is trapped inside an old well in Wharf Park. She was pushed in on Friday by a Huxley student, who shall remain nameless, and dozens of rescue workers have been trying to free her.”

Logan scowled as they showed Olsen Benner at the well site. It was a clip that had been featured on Channel 6 news that morning.

“ _Louise Belcher has now been trapped for over 60 hours,”_ began Olsen. _“Very early this morning, some new drills arrived, which are capable of drilling at least seven to eight inches at a time. As the current drills the rescuers are using are only able to drill an inch an hour, officials are certain that Louise could be rescued by the end of the day.”_ Olsen moved closer to the well, and Brian aimed the camera at Tim and Charlie. _“How is Louise doing?”_ she asked.

“ _She's really frustrated, and tired,”_ Charlie revealed. _“She just wants to get out, and is mad at us because it's taking so long.”_

“ _Hopefully, she'll be out soon,”_ said Olsen, and Charlie nodded. _“There are a lot of wires and cables in the well. Can you tell us what they are?”_

“ _It's equipment we're using to monitor her.”_

“ _Such as?”_

“ _Well, these hoses are giving her oxygen and warm air. There's a microphone down there so we can hear her, and a speaker so that she can hear us. There's a little camera so we can see her, and a light. And her parents have put her night light down there, to give her a bit of comfort.”_

Upon hearing that, Logan straightened up. Night light?

“She needs a night light?” he blurted out, causing everyone to look at him.

“She's a kid; most kids are scared of the dark. So are some adults,” said Annie, fixing him with a steely glare. Logan pulled a face and did not answer. For the first time since Friday, he actually felt a little bit guilty. She needed a night light? Louise Belcher needed to have a night light? She could hang out with a biker gang, but she was afraid of the dark?

* * *

Mr Frond stood in the sports hall, waiting quietly as the children filed in noisily for morning assembly. The kids took their time taking their seats, trying to make sure they sat next to their friends, chattering away, happily ignoring Frond, who was still waiting.

When there was a reasonable level of quiet, Frond spoke up.

“Children, I have some news for you,” he began, and the chattering gradually became even quieter. “Some of you are probably aware, that one of our students, Louise Belcher, is currently trapped in a well.”

The few students that didn't know immediately turned to their neighbours, as whispering and murmuring began to arise from the bleachers. “As you know, this is an extremely upsetting time for her family and friends. And I want you all to know that there is no need to worry; what happened to Louise was a one-off. It's not going to happen to you.”

“Well, duh! She was pushed in!” called Zeke, and once again, the few students that did not know this, began to mutter, looks of shock on their faces.

“I know that,” said Frond. “I'm just saying that this isn't going to happen again. If anyone has any worries or concerns, you can talk to me. Just don't go bothering her family.”

“Is Louise going to die in there?” asked Darryl, thrusting his hand into the air.

“No, she's not,” said Frond, certain that they would get her out soon. “But if you feel that you need to talk about that, come to me.”

That concluded the assembly, and the children hurriedly scrambled out to the playground, where the air was soon filled with excited shrieks and chatter.

Regular-sized Rudy stood alone against the wall, not really wanting to play.

“Hey, Rudy!” he turned to see Zeke approaching him, with Jimmy Jr not too far behind. “You okay, man?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at the floor. “Just can't believe she's still in there.”

“I know.” Zeke stood beside him, leaning against the wall. “But you know Louise; she's a tough one; she'll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“Hey, come on, this is Louise. She ain't afraid of nothing. She'll be out by the end of the day.” Rudy looked up at Zeke, feeling a tiny bit better. Of course Louise would be okay. He knew her, he knew that she would get through this.

“I'm going down there after school to watch. You guys gonna come?”

“Sure we will. Wanna play some Ga-ga ball?” asked Zeke and Rudy smiled.

“Okay,” he grinned, and they headed over to the Ga-ga pit.

* * *

On Saturday, Louise's story had made it to the front page of the local newspaper; the headline was _"Girl still trapped in well,"_ above a photo of Louise, with the story continuing on page three.

Sunday was a bit more elaborate; the front page consisted of a large photo of the rescue efforts; a group of grown men crowding around rescue shaft, with the headline declaring that Louise's liberation was a "matter of time"; the following two pages featured interviews with policemen and volunteers, detailing the rescue operation, about how the family were keeping vigil, about how the doctor at the site was growing concerned about dehydration, what it was like digging a tunnel in such cramped conditions, and how the ordeal had brought out the best in people, most of whom just wanted to help.

Other newspapers had caught wind of the bullying, and ran those as cover stories. Headlines like “ _Girl trapped in well was pushed”_ , and _“Louise bully 'wanted revenge'”_ were sure-fire conversation starters.

On Sunday evening, a woman had shown up at the rescue site, claiming she knew how to get Louise out of the well in no time at all. When Richards and Davis indulged her, her idea turned out to be using a “very, very extendable claw grabber” to grab the girl and pull her back up. She had made her own and brought it with her, ready for them to use. The contraption consisted of an ordinary claw grabber, attached to several others, all of which had had the end snapped off.

She had seemed so genuinely concerned that all the two men could do was assure her that they would give it some thought, and if they could use it, then they would.

This had been happening a lot lately; earlier that day, a man had shown up, and told them to soak a rope in superglue, lower it down the well until it touched Louise, and then pull it up once it had dried, which they explained wouldn't work as all it would do would remove Louise's hat. And if they tried again, they explained it wouldn't work as all it would do would remove the hair (and possibly the skin) from Louise's scalp.

Somebody else had told them to attach a hook to the winch used to lower the rescuers down the shaft, and lower it down the well, and pull Louise up that way, which wouldn't work as Louise couldn't grab on to it, nor could the hook safely grip any part of her body. Another suggestion (from a child, however,) was to use a superhero with stretching abilities; “they could stretch their arm down the well, and then pull her up!” The little boy's father could only look at the two chiefs, and they nodded understandingly.

“Well, now, that's a good idea, son,” Davis had said gently, bending down so he was eye level with the excited boy. He had no idea how to let the child down gently. “But I think the superheroes are all a little bit busy right now, saving the world and all. But if we get hold of one, we'll bring him here, okay?” That seemed the placate the boy, and he left with his father.

Once again, Richards and Davis could only stare at each other.

* * *

Teachers from Louise's school were also interviewed. Whenever a person is in peril, it is human nature to only talk about how good a person they are. In Louise's case, the teachers could do little more than express their sympathies, and hope that the girl would soon be freed. When questioned, they would reveal that Louise was an 'active, energetic student,' choosing not to elaborate. Even Mr Frond couldn't bring himself to say anything about her, except he hoped her rescue would come soon.

The principal had also spoken to the school that morning, since most, if not all of the students had heard about the story. He merely explained that Louise had fallen into a well, and to not bother the family, but if they wanted to send them any well wishes, could they please wait until after the rescue. Unfortunately, the teachers could do little to prevent the students from travelling to the actual rescue site when school had let out; many of them were accompanied by their parents, who were a little bit more compassionate and felt sorry for the girl and her family.

The children, however, did not all feel the same way; a sort of gambling operation had sprung up in the school playground; kids were taking bets on how long Louise could survive, and what type of injuries she had. The odds that Louise would die were currently at Wednesday night and the winner would receive twenty dollars. Most of them seemed to agree that Wednesday would be the day, and the stakes grew higher as the betting intensified.

* * *

For the longest time, the Belcher family sat in silence and watched the rescue effort. Bob was sat next to the well, talking to his daughter.

“They're getting really close,” he told her. “These new drills are great.”

“ _Oh, great,”_ she tried to sound sarcastic, but she was too tired. _“When are they gonna get me out?”_

“It'll be real soon,” said Bob, looking down into the pitch black, as Louise gave a little hum in response. “Louise?” He heard a slight tired whine through the headphones.

“ _What?”_

“Just... try and get some sleep, okay?” he asked. “It'll help speed things up.” She didn't answer him, and Bob decided to leave and let her try to sleep, and so he rejoined the rest of his family.

Tim and Charlie now only read to her during the day, whenever she got particularly agitated, as a way of keeping her distracted. During the night, they would try to persuade her to sleep as much as she could.

Linda was keeping track of how many hours Louise had been trapped; they were in hour 65 at that moment. The waiting was agony for her; all she wanted was her child, to hug and comfort her, and she couldn't do that. She could hear and see her, but she couldn't touch her. Carol was sat next to her, doing her best to comfort the mother, but of course, the only thing that could comfort Linda was seeing Louise come out of the well.

Bob was mentally preparing himself for the inevitable hospital trip; no matter what, he would always hate the place, but he was always willing to go there if his children needed it He was sure, he was desperately telling himself that Louise wasn't hurt too badly; he was thinking nothing more than a few cuts and bruises. He had to think that; he couldn't let himself think anything else.

Tina, on the other hand, couldn't shake off the fact that Louise might be badly injured; she would be very surprised if Louise came out unscathed. Her thoughts weren't usually this dark and realistic, and it upset her.

Gene, like Tina, had an unusually realistic way of thinking; he knew there was a possibility that Louise was hurt, but he couldn't imagine just how badly, though. He knew that she was trapped under rubble, but she had been shouting and bossing people around, so he believed that any injuries she may have were minor.

The family's attention remained focused on the well in which one of their own was trapped, but they still did not speak.

* * *

As her son and husband were at school and work, Cynthia took the opportunity to go shopping. She needed to get her hair done, plus she would never pass up a bit of retail therapy. She intended to spend most of the day out.

Cynthia made her way to the salon, so that she could shop with freshly washed and coloured hair, and approached the receptionist.

“Have you got any appointments for today?” she asked.

“I'll just check for you, miss,” said the young woman, who began flipping through a book. “We do have an opening at 12:15, if that's good for you?”

“Hm,” Cynthia pursed her lips. It was not good for her; it was a 45-minute wait, and she didn't want to go shopping until her hair had been done. “It'll have to do; I'll wait,” and she sat down, grabbing a magazine as she did so.

As she skimmed the fashion and beauty magazine, she became aware of one of the other patrons looking at her. When Cynthia looked over at her, the woman quickly buried her face in her own magazine. “Can I help you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Upon hearing her sharp tone, the woman looked back up.

“You're the mother of that boy, aren't you?” she asked, and another waiting patient glanced over.

“Which boy? There's more than one, you know.” Cynthia remarked snidely.

“The one who pushed that little girl into the well. The bully,” said the woman, putting just a hint of emphasis on the last word.

“My son is not a bully!” Cynthia slammed her magazine down and glared at the woman.

“He pushed a nine-year-old into a well; I'd call that bullying,” said the woman smugly, and the other lady nodded in agreement.

“I wouldn't,” said Cynthia.

“And you did say that he stole her hat,” interjected the second woman. “He stole her hat, and he pushed her down a well, and you don't see a problem with that?”

“Okay, he didn't know about the well! If it had been covered, then she wouldn't have fallen in!”

“But he pushed her; it's his fault.”

“You know what; I don't have to put up with this!” Cynthia was on her feet now. “My son is a good boy, and we actually know Louise and her awful family, so I can tell you that she's the one who starts this!” She turned on her heel and marched out of the salon.

She was fuming as she barged through the shoppers, how dare they assume that it was all Logan's fault? It wasn't his fault that Louise fell into an uncovered well. If it had been filled in and covered like it was supposed to be, then this wouldn't have happened. It wasn't his fault that she stumbled backwards and didn't look behind her. It wasn't his fault that she was still stuck in there.

She entered a nearby clothes store, and began browsing the rails. Picking out several items of clothing, she soon began to forget about the two women. However, she noticed more than a few other shoppers looking at her, whispering behind their hands to their friends, discretely pointing her out.

Cynthia, determined this time to rise above it all, silently queued up to pay for her new dresses and shoes. As she got closer and closer to the till, she caught sight of the newspaper stand. The local paper, the Oceanside Times, was displayed prominently, and on the front page, a picture of Louise. _“Louise still trapped in well”_ read the headline, with the subheading suggesting that it may be another full day until she could be rescued.

Cynthia took a deep breath, before deliberately dropping the clothes on the floor, and storming out.

* * *

Logan wasn't faring much better. Apart from registration, he had been completely ignored all day, and if people weren't pretending he didn't exist, they were giving him filthy looks and muttering rude comments under their breath. It was really getting on his nerves; even his friends were acting a little bit distant.

He was able to ignore most of the comments, as he walked through the halls with clenched fists, and slouched in his chair during lessons, a scowl on his face.

But the final straw was during his history class, when two students behind him were discussing Louise.

“You know, that doctor said she could have died from the fall.”

“Well, yeah, falling that far down could have done some serious damage. And, apparently, the doctor said that if they don't get her out by tomorrow, it'll be too late.” Logan had had enough. Rising from his seat, he grabbed his backpack and marched out of the room.

“Logan?” said his teacher as he approached the door, but the teen ignored her. “Logan!” she called once again, as he left the room, slamming the door behind him. He left school, still fuming. He was being treated like a criminal, and he couldn't stand it.

He pulled his skateboard from his backpack, and jumped on it, skating down the street. He'd already decided that he wasn't going back to school until this fiasco was over, which it would be by the end of the day. He knew it would be. Louise was too stubborn to die; she wanted to hang around and torment him.

He went past the Steps, and made his way home. He began to think about what would happen if Louise died. The police had mentioned that he could be charged, but what would happen to him if she did die? Would he be arrested? Would he go to jail?

When he arrived home, he intended to go straight up to his bedroom, but unbeknownst to him, Cynthia was home, and she was still fuming.

“Logan?” she asked, getting to her feet as she caught him in the hallway. “What are you doing home?”

“I ditched!” he snapped, throwing his skateboard on the ground.

“What? Why?”

“Because all everyone keeps talking about is Louise! And all they do is just glare at me, and mutter things.”

“I know what you mean.”

“I'm not going in tomorrow!” Logan crossed his arms obstinately.

“Well, you have to,” she told him.

“Why?! All everyone's gonna do is treat me like crap, so why should I?!”

“Because you need to go to school! How do you think it's gonna make us look if you refuse to go in?”

“I don't care!”

“I don't care if you care or not; you're going to school tomorrow!”

“I'm not!” Logan shouted, before storming upstairs to his bedroom and slamming the door.

* * *

By 2 o'clock Monday afternoon, Louise had been trapped in the well for 68 hours, and there was little more the family could do except talk to her. The drillers had managed to get another 8 inches closer to her, and they were cautiously optimistic that Louise could be rescued that very night.

Bob tried not to get his hopes up when Carol had told them that, as he didn't want to be disappointed, but every time the signal was given for the cable to be raised, the Belcher family would sit up slightly, hoping to see Louise.

At that moment, Davis was sitting with them, as well as Carol, and was talking to them.

"When we get to the last foot of rock, we're going to dig it by hand,” he was saying, “because if we use the drills, the vibrations will cause another cave-in. However, digging the rock by hand is going to take a while; we don't know how long, but we'll do our best to go as quickly as possible. When we reach the well, they will break through, and then the paramedic will remove all the rubble and bring her out," the way he was talking made it seem like it was going to happen very soon, Linda thought, "and they'll bring her up, and take her straight to the hospital - just to be sure," he quickly added, catching Linda's eye. "Once she is free, the well will be filled and then capped securely."

“I'm going with her in the ambulance,” said Linda, looking Davis in the eye, silently daring him to tell her that she couldn't.

“That shouldn't be a problem,” he said amicably.

“I'm going as well,” said Bob, tearing his eyes away from the well.

“You may have to ride up front,” Carol told him. “There won't be enough room for you both in the back.” Bob and Linda looked at each other, trying to silently communicate. Both of them wanted to be in the back with their daughter.

“Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Bob after a few moment's silence, and Linda nodded.

“Wait, what about the kids? We can't leave them here,” she suddenly realised that if she and Bob both rode in the ambulance, the children would have no way of getting to hospital. Davis did not answer, and instead waved Richards over.

“Mrs Belcher wants to know if there's any way her other children can get to the hospital, since she and her husband both wish to go in the ambulance,” he explained, and Richards looked thoughtful.

“Well,” he began slowly, trying to think of something, before it came to him. “Your doctor has told us that he's already categorised Louise as a level 1 trauma, which means that she'll be seen as soon as she arrives at the hospital. Now, of course, we'll want to get her to the hospital as quickly as we can, because of the nature of injury. If it comes to it, a police car will escort the ambulance, and your children can ride in there, if you wish.”

That seemed sensible enough to Linda and Bob, and so they agreed to it. Richards and Davis then left and continued to oversee the rescue operation.

Tim and Charlie continued reading to Louise, while Cabell gave her another quarter of sugar water.

Unfortunately, Louise hadn't learned her lesson from yesterday. She barely had the strength to lift her head, but she nonetheless managed to drink it all. It took her a while, but she eventually finished the bottle.

“ _More?”_ she asked quietly, not having the energy to do anything more, and the two policemen glanced at each other, feeling terrible.

“Louise, I told you that it has to last,” Tim called.

“ _Need.. more. Please?”_ was all she could muster. They felt terrible for denying her, but they had no choice in the matter.

* * *

Not long after, Big Bob and Mort returned. Earlier that day, Linda had noticed that they were running low on food, but she was far too preoccupied to go out shopping, so when they had visited in the morning, Linda had asked if they wouldn't mind running to the shop and picking up a few items, and that she would pay them back when she could. Big Bob had told her not to worry, and had gone out and bought enough food to last them a week, all on him.

Mort was sat next to them, talking, but Linda was barely registering what he was saying to her; she was just too worried. Her daughter was trapped in a well, and had been so for the past three days. Sometimes she felt like she was being punished for something she had done; her child in a life-and-death situation was her punishment for being a terrible mother. She couldn't think of any other explanation, because nothing else made sense to her. She still didn't understand why Logan had pushed her in; how could he be so cruel? She would have never imagined that her daughter would be able to fit in something that small, but her voice and the images on the news truck confirmed it. It felt so strange and foreign for her to be sitting and doing nothing; her child was in danger, she wasn't allowed to help, and it tore her up inside.

“She's gonna be fine,” Mort was saying, and Linda forced herself to focus on him. “You know how tough she is.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Linda quietly. She rubbed her face worriedly and looked back over at the well.

“Hey, do you remember when you guys finally scared her on Halloween?” asked Mort, and Linda smiled at the memory.

“Yeah,” she grinned, “it was a great day. I still can't believe we actually did it. We couldn't have done it without you and Teddy.”

“Ah, we were happy to do it. Hey, we didn't go overboard, did we? She wasn't too scared?”

“No, she was fine; she'd stopped shaking before we got out of the house, and she slept fine that night.” Linda smiled slightly as she remembered Louise practically bouncing in her seat on the ride home (Bob driving very slowly) as she recounted the night's event, a huge grin on her face. “How are we gonna top that?” she asked.

“I don't think you can,” said Mort. “Anything you try, she'll be onto you; you'll have to wait a few years.”

“Good point. Well, we've got plenty of time to think of something.”

“Yeah.” They both fell silent, and after a few minutes, Linda returned to the well to talk to her daughter. Placing the headphones over her ears, she assured Louise that she was going to get out of the well. There wasn't much else to say, except that she loved her, and that she was going to be okay, and she would listen to Louise's echoey voice as she mumbled in reply.

Even though Louise was tired, Tim and Charlie got worried when she slept too much; the only thing worse than hearing her whimpering was not hearing her at all. If Louise fell silent for more than thirty minutes, the two officers would begin to shout down to her, sometimes waking her up, and to keep the girl awake, they would talk to her. Usually, one officer would wear the headphones and just talk to Louise, telling her funny stories, trying to lift the girl's spirits; they would tell her that her family were waiting to see her, and they would tell her that she would be out very soon. Louise continued to respond to them, much to their relief.

Tim and Charlie still remained by the well; Charlie had left briefly Sunday evening to head home and see his family, and get some much needed sleep in a bed, and had returned very early Monday morning. In his absence, officer George had listened to Louise along with Tim. Tim, who was married with a baby on the way, had been home once, on Sunday morning, and had spent some time with his wife before returning to his job.

Usually, they would work in shifts during the day; one would talk and listen to Louise, while the other walked around, stretching their legs, and helping out the others where they could, and then after a while, they would swap over. They continued with this routine when night fell, only one person would sleep, while the other remained awake. Sometimes, they both laid by the well for hours, and other officers would step in when they wanted a break. If Louise was particularly annoyed, then Tim and Charlie would both be there.

The strain was beginning to show. They had all been working non-stop for three days, and they had still not reached the well. All of the people surrounding the rescue shaft: the volunteers, the drillers, the policemen, the firefighters, the paramedics, not to mention the onlookers and the media crowded behind the barriers, they were all waiting for the breakthrough, which they felt sure would happen at any moment. But, as the hours melted away, and the drillers continued digging, the hope and optimism began to dim.

Dr Cabell was beginning to worry, Louise had been trapped for almost 70 hours now, and he was getting concerned about her condition. But if he was worried, that was nothing compared to how Linda and Bob felt. They were getting desperate.

"Three days," Linda said to Bob, her face taut. “She's been in there for nearly three days now." Bob was at a loss for words, so he pulled his wife into a hug. Gene and Tina watched as yet another depleted oxygen tank was replaced with a fresh one.

Cabell was again lowering the thermometer down the well; when he pulled it back up, he beckoned Richards and Davis over.

“The temperature's dropped a bit,” he told them. “I want to increase the amount of warm air we're giving her. And increase the oxygen, too; I want to keep her alert.” The two men nodded, and Richards stepped aside to make a phone call.

Davis kept coming over to check on the family and give them updates, trying to keep them calm and not worry too much. Of course, there wasn't much to say except that they were still drilling; throughout the course of the day, they managed to get twelve inches close to Louise; they had now dug 27 inches across to the well, and it was only 33 more inches until they reached the well, but at the unsteady progress they were making, it was still uncertain when the girl would be freed.

"Maybe they'll get her out tonight," said Teddy, trying to keep optimistic, but the family didn't look convinced.

"It's taken them two days to dig just over two feet!" said Gene. Like the rest of his family, he was annoyed at the slow rate the rescue workers were going.

"It is not going to take much longer," Linda insisted. "They've brought in more people, and they've got better drills; it can't take much longer." She rose from her chair and walked over to the well.

Try as he might, Bob couldn't get himself to believe that. He looked over at his wife, who was knelt by the well, talking to Louise. With each passing moment, the situation seemed to become more and more serious. He needed to be strong for his wife and family; he wanted to break down and cry, but he felt that if he did, then everything else would fall apart, so he did his best to keep his feelings in check. All he could do was think about the moment when Louise would get out of the well.

Louise was still talking to them, which kept morale up. It meant that she still had strength, and energy left. However, she wasn't talking nearly as much as usual; she had stopped ordering them about, and sounded tired. She was breathing rather rapidly, which worried Cabell.

“You have to get her out within 24 hours; she won't be able to maintain her body temperature, she's getting dehydrated,” he was saying to Richards and Davis; the three of them were standing next to the well, while Charlie and Tim lay beside it.

“Look, we're going as fast as we can,” Davis tried to assure the doctor.

“She won't survive in there for much longer.”

“Well, if you would just give her a decent amount of water, that wouldn't be a problem!” snapped Charlie, causing them all to look down at him.

“I've told you why I'm only giving her a little,” he said.

“That little girl's health should come first!”

“I know that; that's why I'm doing this. It may not seem like it, but I'm helping her.”

“It doesn't seem like that to me,” said Charlie.

“Alright,” said Davis sharply, turning to Charlie. “Wilkins, let the doctor do his job; he knows what he's doing.” Charlie opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it.

“We know,” Richards tried to keep his voice low and calm. “We're doing everything we can to get her out, okay? We can't do any more than what we are.” They were just as worried as he was, and they could work faster, then they would.

* * *

Regular-sized Rudy, Zeke, Jimmy Jr, Andy, Ollie, Darryl, Pocket-sized Rudy, Wayne, Millie, and Harley had arrived at Wharf Park, and were now squeezing through the crowd to get to the front where they could see.

The area looked no different than it had since Friday; everything was still the same. Regular sized Rudy just stared at the well, while Millie wiped her eyes, her bottom lip trembling. He could see the Belchers' sitting nearby, huddled together, looking worn out. The two policemen remained by the well, sitting cross-legged, one with the headphones over his ears.

“Wow, I've never seen it so packed in here,” said Jimmy Jr, looking around at the rescue personnel, the reporters, and the onlookers.

“Yeah, it's crazy,” Regular-sized Rudy muttered, looking back at the well.

“That poor kid,” came a voice from next to him, and Rudy looked up to see a man he did not know, staring at the well, and shaking his head.

“Do you know how far they've gotten?” he asked, and the man shook his head.

“No; all they keep saying is a few more hours. The only people that actually know are the drillers, and the family.” Rudy nodded.

“Makes sense,” he said quietly. “I hope they get her out today.” The man nodded at him before a wail from Millie caught their attention.

“Why are they taking so long!?” she cried. “Why don't they let me do this?! Just tie a rope around my feet, and I'll get her out!”

“They already tried that,” said Darryl, but there was no reasoning with Millie.

“I know! But I can do this! I'll be able to get her out, I know it!”

“You won't be able to,” said Wayne. “You can't be upside down for that long; it's why Pocket-sized Rudy couldn't do it.”

“I'll do it for Louise!” Millie declared.

“They won't let you,” Zeke told her. “They won't put anyone else down there.” Millie's lip began to tremble again, and tears poured out of her eyes.

“I just wanna help her!” she sobbed, burying her head in her hands. “I wanna help my best best friend! She's been down there for too long!”

“I think they'll get her out tonight,” said Regular sized Rudy, partly for his benefit, and partly to shut Millie up. She stopped crying and looked at him.

“Do you really think so?” she asked, her wet eyes wide, and her hands clasped over her chest.

“Well, I hope so,” he hesitated slightly before answering. “It can't take too much longer.” That didn't seem to appease Millie, and she began crying again. Rudy ignored her and sat down on the grass, pulling his knees up, and staring at the well.

* * *

Cabell turned and approached the Belchers, sighing inwardly. He did not really want to tell them, but they had a right to know.

“Bob, Linda,” he greeted, crouching beside them; Bob nodded in reply without taking his eyes off the well, and Linda didn't even acknowledge him. “Listen,” he said slowly, “it might be best if you... start preparing for the worst.” That got their attention; Bob and Linda immediately faced him, along with the children.

“What do you mean?” asked Bob.

“Well, Louise has been in there for three days, now,” he began gently. “She's had no food and limited water during that time, not to mention the possibilities of organ damage, and it's very possible that.. they won't reach her in time.” Bob did not know what happened next, for his head with filled with Cabell's voice repeatedly saying _'they won't reach her in time,'_ over and over again so that it was all he could hear. He could see Linda talking, or perhaps arguing with Cabell, but he didn't know what they were saying. He knew how much danger Louise was in, but now it was like he was learning about this for the first time. Now it seemed really real and scary.

“But they could get her out tomorrow, or even tonight!” Bob said, his eyes watering.

“I know, Bob, I just don't want you to get your hopes up.”

“It doesn't matter! Louise is going to be fine!” said Linda, a desperate undertone to her voice. “They're going to reach her, and get her out, and she'll be fine!”

“Please, Linda, try to understand; the effects of dehydration after -”

“I don't wanna hear it!” Linda shrieked, causing everybody in the park to turn and stare at her. “Don't you think we're dealing with enough, without you putting this crap on our shoulders?! Are you out of your mind?! How can you think of telling us this?! Just – just get back over there, and do your job!” Linda had risen to her feet, and Bob had quickly followed suite. Cabell only nodded and walked away; it was harsh, but it had to be done. He just felt they deserved to know there was a chance that Louise could die, and the longer the girl remained trapped, the bigger the chance became.

“It's alright, honey,” muttered Bob, taking his wife's hand, and trying to calm her down. Linda was hyperventilating with rage, glaring at Cabell.

“How could he say that to us?!” she raged, sitting down with Bob. “How could he be so insensitive?!”

“I know,” said Bob quietly, rubbing her back. “I know. It's scary, but we need to keep positive; Louise is counting on us.” Easier said than done, especially as Bob felt like collapsing and sobbing. “We need to be strong for her,” he said, and Linda nodded.

Gene and Tina did not say a word, but they exchanged silent looks that said everything. Gene noticed Tina's expression, and slipped his hand into hers, giving it a comforting squeeze.

* * *

Louise had her head resting against the wall of the well, her eyes closed. She was so tired. She was hungry, thirsty, and cold. She had lost all feeling in her arms and legs some time ago, and whenever the drills would stop, her ears would ring.

"Don't worry, Louise," came that voice from above her. "It won't be long before you're out." She did not answer. There was nothing she could do. She was so frightened; she had never been so scared in her entire life. She could feel her strength ebbing away, and she was powerless to do anything about it. She didn't even have enough energy to wriggle her shoulders any more. Everything hurt. Well, the parts of her body that she could feel hurt; she couldn't feel her arms or legs, or her hands and feet. She used to be able to wiggle her toes, but now if she could, she couldn't feel it. She felt like the only part of her body she could feel and move was her head.

She felt so helpless. Louise opened her eyes slightly as a small tear rolled down her cheek. She was going to die, she knew it. She was going to die, and she didn't want to, and she didn't want to be alone.

“ _M – Mo – Mom... Dad?”_ she whispered, _“want... Mom... and Dad.”_ Charlie again beckoned the parents over, and Gene and Tina followed.

“She wants you,” was all the officer said, shuffling back so that the family could sit around the well. Linda held up the headphones, and Bob picked up the microphone.

“Louise?” he called hesitantly. They couldn't hear anything. “Louise?”

“ _Daddy?”_ came her little voice, and Bob felt tears welling up.

“It's me,” he said, after taking a deep breath. He didn't know what to say; he couldn't keep telling her that she was going to be freed very soon, because he didn't know for sure. “You're – you're gonna be okay,” he told her, his voice catching.

“That's right, baby,” Linda assured her. “You'll be fine.”

“ _Hi, Mommy,”_ came their daughter's breathy voice, and Linda placed her hand over her mouth, fighting back tears. Louise hadn't called her “mommy” since she was four.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said. “I'm here; we're all here, we're waiting to see you.”

“ _Me too,”_ Louise sounded exhausted and slightly out of breath. She closed her eyes again. _“I – I'm afraid,”_ she whispered, finally admitting what she had been feeling ever since Friday. _“Don't... don't wanna... die,”_ she breathed.

“You're not gonna die,” Linda choked, failing to keep the tears in. “You're going to be fine!”

“It's okay,” said Bob, also crying, not knowing what else to say.“It's okay, Louise. We're here for you; don't be scared. They're gonna get you out. You're not going to die, I promise.” He backed away, sobbing. Gene and Tina looked at one another.

“Mom?” Gene's voice wobbled, leaning forward.

“She – she said she doesn't wanna die!” Linda buried her face in her hands, crying loudly. Many people were looking over at them, worried expressions on their faces, but the Belchers' did not know this. Gene brought a hand to his mouth, tears welling up in his eyes.”

“Don't worry, Louise,” Tina leaned toward the microphone. “They're getting really close now.” She didn't know what else to say.

“ _How... long?”_

“Not long!” Gene called, working to keep his voice even, “probably by the end of the day.”

“ _Oh.”_ It was horrible hearing Louise sound so exhausted and breathless. It was very scary.

“So, try not to worry, baby,” Linda told her. “I know it's scary, but it'll all over soon.”

“ _Yeah,”_ Louise whispered. She paused for a long time. _“Love you, Mommy.”_ Linda gasped, unable to believe what she had just heard. That was probably the second time in her entire life that Louise had said she loved her. Linda knew that Louise did love her family; the little girl just never said it aloud.

“I love you too, baby,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye.

“ _Love you... Gene... Tina,”_ she said, and her siblings looked down into the well.

“We love you, Louise,” said Gene.

“We both love you,” Tina called.

“ _Love you... Daddy,”_

“I love you, too. We all love you,” Bob told her.

They remained by the well for a little while, but Louise didn't say anything else. They decided to move back and let her get some sleep. Before they did, Linda made sure that Louise was still breathing.

* * *

On their way back to the chairs, they noticed that Cynthia and Logan were standing at the front of the barriers. Logan looked incredibly annoyed, but Cynthia was wearing a look of pure fury.

“What do they want?” muttered Gene, and Tina shrugged.

“What are you doing here?” said Linda, as the family stood together near their chairs. She wiped her face and managed to glare at Cynthia.

“My son is being harassed at school because of this,” Cynthia snapped, gesturing to the well. “And so am I; people are insulting us; they've been calling me a terrible mother!”

“...So?” Bob looked confused.

“So, my son is being bullied, and we keep getting insulted!”

“That's not our fault,” Bob told her, leaving Cynthia momentarily silenced.

“Well, people are only doing this because they think it's Logan's fault! We've said time and time again that it was an accident, but they're not listening! They won't leave us alone!”

“Again, not our fault,” said Bob. Cynthia opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “We didn't tell anyone that it was you. We didn't name names; you're the ones who went on TV and admitted it.”

Cynthia was taken aback, not knowing what to say. Bob was really not in the mood to deal with them, or anything else. He had just heard his youngest child say that she was afraid she was going to die. What parent wants to hear that? He couldn't deal with that; he wasn't able to help her, and it made him want to throw up.

“Maybe you shouldn't have raised your son to be such a horrible, little bully!” Linda snapped, naturally extremely stressed out. “Just get out of here,” she threw them both a look of disgust. “I don't care where you go, just get away from here.”

“You know, you're not as high and mighty as you like to think,” said Cynthia. “Your daughter is a crazy little brat! She's not innocent in this, you know! You know that she antagonises my boy!”

“So what?!” Bob's voice rose an octave. “I know she's not perfect; she's not an angel. She can be cheeky, she doesn't always listen to me; sometimes she makes me wanna tear my hair out! But she doesn't deserve this!” Now it was his turn to gesture to the well, and he turned to Logan, “how could you be so cruel? Don't you care at all? Don't you care that any injuries she has are because of you? Do you know what the doctor told us? He said she could have a back injury! She may need a wheelchair! Because of you, she could be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. He's told us to start preparing for the worst!” He took a few deep breaths and tried to compose himself. “You had no right putting your hands on my daughter, and I swear to God, if you touch her again, I will tear your head off your shoulders. Now, get out of here.”

Once again, Cynthia was momentarily silenced. She looked around at all of the police officers, and the firemen, the drillers, and so she grabbed Logan and briskly walked away, with her son jerking himself out of her grip.

* * *

It was now 8pm. Louise had been in the well for 74 hours, and so, despite wanting and needing to stay, Bob and Linda decided to head home, so that Gene and Tina could get some sleep. If he was honest, the whole Cynthia incident had stressed him out, even more so than he was, and so Bob had wanted to get away and try to calm down.

Dinner for them was a silent affair, and afterwards, instead of going to bed, they sat on the sofa. The television wasn't on, but none of them cared.

“You kids need to get to bed,” said Linda, staring straight ahead, and her voice monotonous. “You have school tomorrow.”

“Can we stay here for a while?” asked Tina, and Linda responded by placing her arm around her shoulder, and Bob did the same to Gene.

The four of them remained silent, unable to speak, and they sat there for hours, until Gene and Tina fell asleep where they were, leaning against their parents.

"Bobby?" Linda whispered, breaking the silence.

"Yeah?" her husband whispered back.

"I - I'm scared," she revealed, turning to face Bob. "I'm scared Louise is going to die."

"I'm scared, too," Bob admitted. "And I just don't know what to do. I don't know what to do any more.”

"I just wish I knew if she's okay."

"So do I. Hey, maybe they'll get even better drills and go faster?"

"Hopefully. She's been down there for three days now," Linda blinked rapidly. "I don't know how long it's going to be, or what she's gonna look like when they get her, or if..." she trailed off.

"I mean, I know I keep saying everything will be fine, but I sometimes don't think it will be," said Bob, his voice laced with guilt. "I don't wanna worry the kids, but like you said, Louise has been in the well for three days. I'm not sure what's gonna happen," he blinked back tears.

"So, you think Louise is going to die?" came a little voice from behind Bob, making him jump slightly.

"Gene! I thought you were asleep."

"I woke up. Dad, I thought you said Louise will be okay."

"I'm sure she will be," said his father, trying to sound convincing. "There's nothing to worry about."

"You just said you don't think it'll be fine and that you're scared Louise will die!” said Gene, a little louder than he intended to, causing Tina to wake up. “We deserve to know what's going on!" the boy whispered fervently. Bob and Linda exchanged glances.

“What's going on?” muttered Tina, and Linda hugged her tightly.

"Okay," Bob sighed heavily. "The truth is that Louise could die down there," he admitted. "We don't know how long it will be before the drillers can reach her, and if they don't hurry, it... could be too late."

"So.. what's going to happen if it is too late?" asked Gene.

"I don't know," admitted Bob. "They, uh, they won't leave her down there, though; they'll still bring her up."

"So, then what?"

"Then I guess we just do our best to carry on." Gene nodded before asking his final question.

"What do we do until then?"

"Until then, until they get her out, all we can do is wait."

“I don't want Louise to die,” Gene's voice quivered, and his eyes welling up with tears. Bob hugged him tightly. What could he say? He couldn't promise that she wouldn't, and he couldn't promise that she would be okay.

“I don't want her to, either,” he gasped, feeling Linda's hand on his back.

“She can't die!” Now Gene was sobbing, his shaking form pressed into his father.

“Mom, they're not gonna let Louise die, are they?” asked Tina, looking up at her mother, and clutching her tight.

“They're – they're gonna do everything that can to reach her,” Linda couldn't stop the tears from falling down her face. She buried her face in her hands, and Bob placed one arm around her.

Linda put her arm around Tina, and the four of them hugged tightly, waiting for the tears to stop flowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done! What did you think? I really thought we had to get away from the park, and explore some different locations.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys, I'm back with another chapter for you. I promise the one-chapter-a-day thing will not last forever.  
> I realise that at points it may seem like this story is set in the 80's or something, what with people tuning in the news on TV, and not their phones, but I didn't want to make it feel too dated, you know? I kind of feel that a small town like Seymour's Bay would function that way.

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 5

Once again, the Belcher family had fallen asleep together on the sofa, and awoke early. The first thing Linda did, as usual, was check her phone. To her surprise, she had several missed calls and messages, and Linda realised that the phone had been put on silent. Mentally slapping herself, she opened the latest message.

“Bobby, they're at the last foot of rock!” she gasped, turning to face him. “They reached it at ten o'clock last night!”

“Oh, my God!” Bob cried, beaming as he pulled his wife into a hug. Their cries of joy caused their children to awaken.

“What is it?” asked Gene, rubbing his eyes. “Did they get her out?”

“They're at the last foot of rock,” Linda grinned. “So they've only got twelve inches, and then Louise'll be free! She's been in there for.. 85 hours now, but that's okay!" she continued, checking the clock briefly and turning to her family. "Okay, you two go and brush your teeth, you're not going to school today," she pointed at Gene and Tina, who obeyed, grinning all the while, and Linda began to bustle about the kitchen, making breakfast for everyone. If she couldn't help with the rescue efforts, she could at least make sure the rest of her children were taken care of. It was the least she could do to let them watch the rescue of their little sister.

When breakfast was ready, Bob joined them from the living room, and the four of them ate silently.

When Gene and Tina had finished, Linda bustled them towards the front door. "Come on," she said, herding them in front of her. She wanted to get to the well as quickly as possible, so she could comfort her youngest daughter.

Linda opened the front door to what she could only describe as a swarm of journalists. Cameras flashed, microphones were thrust into her face, and the reporters crowded on the doorstep jostled one another, anxious to be the one to get an interview. Some of them were pushing others out of the way to get the best angle, others shouting to make their voices heard in the din, the voices rising to a roar.

"Mrs Belcher, can you give us a statement?" cried one reporter, shoving her microphone into the bewildered woman's face.

"Do you think your daughter's going to be okay?"

"Can you tell us anything?" The questions came louder and closer and more jumbled until eventually it became a cacophony of confusion; the journalists came closer to her, squeezing onto the little doorstep like a herd of cattle, pulling at microphone leads, narrowly avoiding hitting their heads on the cameras; the voices grew louder and more frenzied as each reporter fought to have their question acknowledged; the cameramen were trying to lift their equipment above the crowd to capture the expression on the mother's face, all of them still talking non-stop.

Linda froze, caught unaware. For a few moments, she actually couldn't move. Gene and Tina stood in front of her, staring out at all of the people, not knowing what to do. She saw Carol at the back, fighting her way through the crowd, and telling them to leave. Snapping back into reality, she pushed her children behind her out of the glare of the cameras and quickly closed the door, just after Carol slipped inside. 

"What was that? What the hell was that?!" she cried to Bob, who had come running over at the sound. "What is going on?"

"Was it reporters?" her husband asked and she could only nod. She had never seen anything like that before.

"They're all outside the front door; I can't get out! Why are they doing this?" she asked, running a hand through her hair.

"It could be because you've only spoken to the press once," said Carol. "They want more information."

"But we can't give them any more! We don't know any more than what they do!" snapped Linda.

"I'm afraid stories like this draw reporters to them like a moth to a flame, and they can't keep repeating the same thing over and over again."

"Well, that's too bad; I've got better things to do than cater to them! I don't care how much they want a story; all I care about is getting Louise out of that well!" Linda finished, turning on her heel and marching upstairs.

"That was crazy," said Bob, who had only caught a glimpse of the journalist tsunami before Linda had slammed the door shut. "Lin is right, though," he concluded, "we know as much as they do, and they can talk to the rescue workers, can't they?"

"Well, it is a child-in-peril story, and they probably want to be the first one to get the latest news; perhaps their editors are hounding them," said Carol reassuringly.

"That's no excuse!" said Tina.

"Are they gonna stay out there until Louise is out?" asked Gene.

"Probably," said Bob.

"I still can't believe they did that," Tina was shocked at what had just transpired. "They should have some respect."

"Why are there so many?" asked Gene, as Linda returned with jackets for everyone, and a large bag.

"Because a lot of people think this is interesting," Bob tried to explain. "They want to know what's happening." Gene only nodded thoughtfully, still trying to fully absorb the past four days.

"How long will it be before they get her out?" he asked.

"I don't know, son. I don't think anybody does," Bob admitted, feeling a lump come to his throat. "But they are going to get her out," he said determinedly; that much he knew for sure.

"Will she be okay?" the little boy asked and the remaining Belchers' fell silent for the longest time.

"... I don't know," Bob repeated, doing his best to keep his voice even. "I hope she will be; we won't know until they get her out." Linda wished Gene would stop asking questions; it made everything seem all the more real. She didn't like to think about her daughter trapped underground with all sorts of possible injuries, and she did her best to think of other things, but when Gene went on his never-ending question tirade, it felt like a slap in the face from reality.

"So, I guess we won't be going to school until this is over," Gene said as calmly as he could, trying to think of the moment when it would be over, when everything would go back to normal. He didn't know when this would happen, but he knew that it would, for a rescue team would never leave someone stuck in a well.

"I guess so," Bob agreed. "At least here, they can't bother us that much," he added referring to the journalists, "at school, it might not be so easy."

* * *

Breakfast in the Bush household had been a tense affair. Logan refused to acknowledge his mother as they sat at the table, despite Cynthia's attempts to get him to speak to her.

Tom had been keeping out of the whole entire thing. Sure, he had been watching the news, following the story, but he made no comment on it, either at home or at work. The way he saw it, getting involved wouldn't help at all; this was Cynthia's problem. Privately, he couldn't understand why she kept going to the well site, and stirring the pot, but he knew all hell would break loose if he mentioned this.

He kept his face buried in the morning newspaper (which blared the headline _“Concern grows for trapped child.”_ ) and sipped his coffee as his wife demanded her son's attention. Logan's constant calling of his name got him to look up.

“What?”

“I asked what would happen if she dies? Will I be arrested?” Tom laid his paper on the table.

“I don't know,” he said honestly. “That's for the police to decide.” Upon hearing that, Cynthia looked over at them. 

“He can hardly get arrested for an accident, can he?” she snapped.

“I don't know; I'm not a lawyer. If she dies -”

“Yeah, well, she won't!” said Cynthia. “If you're that concerned, why don't you squeeze down there and check on her?!”

“There's already a doctor there,” said Tom calmly, picking up his paper once more.“I'm just saying that if she dies, there isn't anything we can do; it's up to the police.”

“I mean, they'll understand that it was an accident, right?” asked Logan. “It's not my fault if she dies; it's not like I'm stopping them from getting her out.”

“You're not going to get arrested,” Cynthia told him. “Now, hurry up and finish your breakfast, or else you'll be late.”

“I told you I'm not going to school today.” Tom groaned quietly from behind his paper.

“I will not have you acting like a delinquent any longer!” Cynthia snapped. “You're going to school, even if I have to drive you there myself!”

“I told you, I'm not! You can't make me!”

“Wanna bet?” Cynthia's eyes narrowed, and Logan crossed his arms.

“Bring it on.”

Cynthia proved she was a woman not to be trifled with as she pulled up outside Huxley High, with Logan in the passenger seat. It hadn't been easy, but she had managed it.

“Now, I will be here at exactly 3:15, and you better be outside waiting, because if you're not, you will be in big trouble, mister!”

“What are you gonna do? Ground me?”

“Oh, it will be much worse than grounding! Now, get inside!”

Logan exited the car, and slammed the door as hard as he could. He made his way into the school, and stopped at the front door, looking behind him. Cynthia was still there, watching him. Scowling, he went inside and waited for a moment. When he looked again, her car was gone, and Logan took the opportunity to leave.

Once again, he hopped onto his skateboard and headed for the Steps.

* * *

The people of Seymour's Bay, and indeed, most of New Jersey, could now talk of nothing else except the ordeal of Louise in the well. Thanks to social media, the story had spread all over the United States, and many people over the country expressed their sympathies, and debates were had, both online and in real life.

One major part of the interest was debating whether or not Logan should be punished, and while the majority of the public were on Louise's side, there were a fair few who felt Logan was being dealt a rough hand.

"Well, of course he should, he pushed her in, after all," one Seymour's Bay native, Gina, said, sipping on her coffee whilst shopping with her friends. The five of them were sat together in a cafe at lunch.

“Yeah, but he didn't know about the well,” said her friend, Helen, who was sat next to her. “He didn't intend for her to fall in.”

“So? He shouldn't have pushed her in the first place.”

“I agree; if he hadn't have pushed her, she wouldn't be in this mess,” said Lisa.

“I think they're all being too hard on this kid, though; I mean, it was just an accident.”

“An accident?” Gina raised an eyebrow. “Have you seen the video? _He_ approaches _her._ She's walking along, minding her own business, when he walks up to her, and shoves her.”

“And I think he's being punished enough, so why add to it?”

“Well, maybe then he'll learn not to put his hands on little girls! What's he doing, bullying a nine-year-old anyway?” Helen didn't really have an answer for that, and so she changed the subject slightly.

“Well, do you believe him when he says she hired a biker gang to cut off his ears?” she said, and the group laughed.

“No way!” cackled Gina, “no way could a little kid do that! And why would the gang do that?”

“Well, the mother backs him up on that; why would she lie about it?”

“Well, she also doesn't seem to think her son's a bully,” said Lisa.

“I just think it's odd that not only do the family know a biker gang, but that Logan knows about that.”

“All easily provable,” said Gina, shrugging her shoulders, “it's not hard to walk past their restaurant, look in, and see it filled with bikers.”

“I don't know,” Helen continued, “it's all a little too easy for me. I think there is some truth to what he's saying.”

“Even so, it doesn't give him the right to bully little kids!” said Gina hotly. The five of them were parents, and like many others, they had taken this story to heart. It could have been any one of their children stuck in that well. “What about when he chased her through the streets and made her cry? Trying to do a wrestling move on a little girl! He was planning on hurting her when he pushed her.” She shook her head in disgust.

"Still," argued a more compassionate woman, Lillian, "they're taking their time getting her out, aren't they?" and just like that, the tone of conversation shifted.

"Tell me about it! It's taken them four days, and they still haven't reached her? Mad," Lisa took another sip of her coffee, adjusting her shopping bags beneath her chair. "If they don't hurry, she'll die."

“That doctor said she could have died from the fall, and that she will die if they don't get her out soon.”

"You have to feel sorry for the girl, though. I mean, I couldn't imagine being trapped in a well for four days," Lillian shook her head.

"The council is to blame; they should have plugged that thing..." Gina decided. "I mean, what were they thinking?"

“Yeah,” said Lisa. “If I were the parents, I'd sue.”

“I know I'd be making that kid pay that girl's hospital bills,” Gina muttered.

"But still," argued Lillian, "you wouldn't expect to fall in it, though, would you? I bet kids thought they would never fit down there.”

“It's 14 inches wide; toddlers could fit down there easy,” said Gina. “Actually, I'm surprised that Louise was able to fit.”

“Oh, my sister knows her mom,” said Lisa, “and, apparently, Louise is really skinny, so that's probably why.”

“Fair enough. I just hope that that little scumbag is properly punished for what he did.”

“Let's focus on the important thing," Lillian implored. "There is a little girl trapped in a well; getting her out should be the only thing that matters."

As it had been for the past few days, groups of women discussed it over lunch, men talked about it at work, and the children who didn't know about it were quickly filled in by their friends. Most of the residents of New Jersey would turn on the television as soon as they returned home, sneakily check Twitter at work; or tune their radios to the correct stations at work or in the car. Now it was getting more intense.

The local church in Seymour's Bay asked their congregation to pray for Louise and her family; Louise, Gene, and Tina's teachers had assigned their students to make get-well cards for Louise.

At lunchtime Tuesday, a little boy wriggled through to the front of the barriers and held out something for Linda; when she approached him, she saw that it was a card depicting her and her family crying around the well on the front in crayon, and when she opened it, Linda saw another drawing of her family, only this time they were smiling as a little drawing of Louise joined them on the page. The little boy told her that he saw her crying on the TV, and to not worry, because Louise would get out soon. Linda had been left speechless by this kind gesture, and had fought back tears.

Lillian from the coffee shop had set up an online fund for Louise, to help pay for her hospital care, and she went around the town, spreading the word, and the donations soon poured in; the journalists heard about this, and managed to find Lillian and interview her.

"I just wanted to help," she said modestly when asked why she had set up the fund. "I'm really concerned for that little girl, and I wanted to do something. And I realised that when she is out, she'll need to go to the hospital, so I decided to set up an Internet fund so her parents don't have to worry any more.”

* * *

The screaming from below ground had stopped long ago. Louise had stopped talking, and would now respond with tired whimpers and moans as she grew more and more fatigued.

She was getting colder, and shivered almost constantly despite the warm air being pumped down to her.

Dr Cabell was, once again, lowering a quarter of sugar water down to her.

“Louise?” Tim called, as the bottle disappeared from sight. “Louise, we're bringing some more water down to you, okay, sweetie? Louise?” He heard a faint whimper in reply, and he removed the headphones. She hadn't spoken since talking to her family the previous night. “She's still not talking,” he said.

“Is she asleep?” asked Charlie.

“No; she's whimpering, but not talking.”

“Is that normal?” Charlie looked up at Cabell. “I mean, she's okay, right?”

“It's hard to say,” said Cabell. “She hasn't had any food for four days; even though we've given her sugar water, she will still get weaker over time.” He paused for a moment, “to be honest, I don't know how much longer she'll last.” Tim and Charlie could only exchange worried looks. “How much longer will it take?” asked Cabell, and Charlie shrugged.

“Got about ten inches of rock to go, so it could be tonight.”

“Do you think she'll make it?” asked Tim.

“I hope so,” Cabell replied honestly, “she's made it this far; hopefully, she can hang on for a little longer.”

* * *

The tension in Wharf Park had almost reached breaking point. The drillers were frantically working to reach Louise before she succumbed to the cold and her injuries. Perhaps wracked with desperation and worry, fights broke out among the men; they would argue about who was going down to drill next and the heated words and shoving soon escalated.

“I'm going next,” said one volunteer, Martin, placing a hard hat on his blonde head, and picking up a pick, as one dust-covered driller emerged from the rescue tunnel.

“You've already been down today,” said another digger, an accusatory undertone to his voice.

“Who says I can only go once a day?” Lowering his tool, the two men faced one another, eyeing each other, each deeming the other to be an unworthy driller, not having the skills to break through the rock.

“Let someone else have a turn,” said another man, as heads turned in their direction.

“Look, I said I'm going down next, so that's what I'm gonna do,” Martin made to move towards the hole, only to be pushed back.

“Like hell, you are!” Not one to allow himself to be treated in such a way, Martin shoved back, and soon the two men were fighting in the middle of the circle, while the other men argued to and about them. Martin had just gained the upper-hand; pinning the other man to the ground, when they were forcefully separated. This was the second time that the police and fire chiefs' had had to break up a fight.

“What the hell is going on here?!” Richards bellowed, causing the men to fall silent, along with the onlookers, the media, and the police officers. “What are you doing?! This is a rescue operation, not a wrestling match! This is _not_ a contest!” The drillers were standing silently, feeling ashamed, with everyone's eyes on them.

“We're not going to put up with this,” added Davis, “so, if there's one more fight, the people responsible will be removed – permanently.”

That got the message through, for the diggers silently hooked Martin up to the cable and lowered him down into the rescue tunnel, where the faint sound of digging soon floated up to the surface. After that, the atmosphere was much friendlier, although the tension could be cut with a knife.

Since the workers had decided that they were not leaving until Louise was free, the fights had stopped. The drillers still argued, however, so the police and fire chiefs remained nearby, ready to smooth out any aggressiveness that may occur.

The plight of the trapped child was what kept them going. If they got tired or hungry, they thought about Louise and what she must be going through. They worked so fervently, so much dust came from the tunnel that there appeared to be a fire below. They had wanted to extend their time in the tunnel; one man had drilled for an hour, and had almost collapsed when he had been brought back up to the surface, and so Richards had ordered that no man stay for more than forty minutes in the tunnel.

Richards, Davis and Dr Cabell were already sizing up paramedics that were needed to free the girl. They needed someone who was thin, yet strong, and one who didn't mind tight places. Eventually, they decided on Patrick Baker, the paramedic who had arrived by ambulance on Friday, along with Simon Landon. Patrick was tall and slim, yet muscly, just what they were looking for, and the 36-year-old man was chosen to go down once workers had reached the well and pull Louise out.

Both Patrick and Simon had been on the scene ever since Friday; they had driven the ambulance to the park, expecting Louise to already be pulled from the well, and they had been fully prepared to check her over, and maybe take her to the hospital. When they saw the size of the well, they were shocked, and their job so far had been to stay out of the way, treating the occasional driller who came above ground coughing and choking from the heat and dust.

* * *

Back at the well, Cabell began to bring the bottle back up. Tim and Charlie hadn't heard Louise make any kind of sound since they had told her about the water.

“I'll give her another quarter tonight,” Cabell was saying, as the bottle came into view, but he stopped when he saw the bottle. It was full, the liquid still at the waterline.

“Louise? Louise, can you hear me?” called Tim, grabbing the microphone, trying to ignore his pounding heart. “Answer me! Sweetie, can you hear me? Can you make a noise?” There was no answer, and Charlie grabbed the lead providing Louise's microphone and, just as before, began to bounce it off her head. He only stopped when he heard a tired whine through the headphones, and they breathed a sigh of relief.

“Louise, did you know about the water?” called Charlie, “we put some more water down there for you, try and drink it, honey.” There was a moment of silence, before he heard another tired moan. “Louise?” he looked back up at Cabell. “What do we do?”

“Put the bottle back down there, and hope that she drinks it; it's all we can do,” the doctor said, as he lowered the bottle back into the well. Cabell decided not to say anything to the Belchers'; he'd already told them that Louise could likely die, he didn't see the need to keep reminding them. However, if he thought that the little girl wouldn't make it past the hour, then he, of course, would tell them, to allow them to say goodbye. But until he knew for sure, he was going to keep quiet.

The policemen could not bring themselves to look at the Belcher family; Louise wasn't even their child, and experiencing this was heart-wrenching. They couldn't even imagine how hard it was for them.

“God, I really hope they reach her soon,” muttered Tim, rubbing his eyes.

“Me, too. It can't take much longer; it's gotta be today, right?”

“I'm hoping so; if the doctor doesn't think she can last much longer...” Tim did not finish his sentence, and instead looked down into the well.

* * *

A commotion by the barriers near the well caused the two chiefs to come over. A burly man, slightly older than middle age, was pushing his way through the crowd, which had doubled in size. There were several more reporters, and lots more onlookers, who stood pressed against the barriers, talking loudly, watching and waiting. The man was trying to break through the wall of journalists, who would not move from their spot, for fear of another reporter stealing it.

"Alright, what's the problem?" called Davis, holding up his hand for silence, which only a few people obeyed. The greying man finally pushed past a reporter and stood in front of Richards and Davis.

"My name's Douglas Farrell; I'm a Mine Safety and Health Specialist. I got back from vacation yesterday, and I'm here to help."

"Well, okay," truthfully, Davis and Richards were relieved to have someone like Douglas helping them; someone who had experience with drilling and digging underground. They beckoned him forward and the man crossed the barrier. "What we have so far," he began, as he led Douglas over to the sheet of plywood where the rescue operation had been sketched. "Louise is trapped eighty feet below ground, and we've dug a rescue shaft six feet away from the well; we couldn't drill it any closer, because we were worried about causing another cave-in. We're maintaining the temperature of the well, keeping it at around 90 degrees, and we're monitoring it for carbon monoxide and the like. We're digging over to her using jackhammers and rotary drills, and we're just going to dig across to her. We're at the last foot of rock, and we're digging it by hand.”

"How far down does the well extend?"

"It's eighty feet, so there's no chance of her falling further down," Davis told him.

"Okay, when we reach her, you're gonna have to remove the bricks one at a time. Unless you're digging on the side of the cave-in, then you're gonna have to be prepared for that," Douglas said.

Douglas was instantly put in charge of the rescue operation and Richards and Davis told the drillers to direct all further questions to him.

* * *

It was now the afternoon. Louise had been in the well for 91 hours now. Although no one spoke about it, hope was beginning to dim. The onlookers mainly stood there silently, watching. The reporters were doing their best to capture every angle, and the volunteers, and police- and firemen looked downtrodden.

Tim and Charlie were both lying on their stomachs by the well. Tim was holding the headphones and Charlie was resting his head in his arms, sleeping. To say they were worried would be an understatement; Cabell, along with everybody else in the park, was growing increasingly concerned for the girl's health. A nine-year-old trapped in a well for four days with no food? He had never heard of it happening before. However, he had not heard Louise make a sound for some time now, despite Tim calling down to her, and his growing fear that the girl was weakening escalated. He called down to the girl once more, again receiving no answer, and his shouts caused Charlie to awaken.

"I haven't heard her for hours," said Tim, looking over at Charlie worriedly.

"She's probably sleeping," Charlie replied, looking just as worried, putting on the headphones, and starting to call down to Louise, shouting louder when he did not get an answer.

"Yeah, that's right, she's sleeping; she's probably exhausted. She's gotta sleep sometime." The two officers looked at each other, taking in their haggard appearances; they both looked worn-out, they had barely moved from the well in four days and it was beginning to take its toll on them.

"Louise! _Louise!"_ Charlie shouted as loud as he could, causing the people nearby to stop what they were doing and gather around them. " _LOUISE! LOUISE!"_ Charlie began to hit the ground in desperation as he and Tim screamed for the girl. Again, he grabbed the lead and began hurriedly hitting the microphone on Louise's head, but she still did not make a sound. The frantic shouting had caught the attention Bob and Linda, and they scrambled out of their chairs, followed by their children. Bob, his clothes wrinkled and his hair a mess, ran over to the well.

"Louise? Louise?!" Bob shoved Charlie aside and began calling to his daughter, his heart pounding in his chest. There was no answer, and Bob put the headphones on. "Louise, answer me!" he screamed desperately when he heard nothing. "Oh, God, Louise! Please! Louise, say something! Make a noise! Anything!" He started crying and looked up at the officers. "Is she still alive?! Is she?!"

"I'm sure she's sleeping," said Tim, his voice wobbling slightly.

"Then why isn't she waking up?! She's supposed to be okay! Is she okay?!" he demanded, tears running down his face.

"Why can't you go faster?!" Linda snapped suddenly, stamping her foot, her shaking hands balled into fists. She couldn't help herself and Bob did not attempt to stop her. "I don't think you know what you're doing!" she spat, her eyes blazing, her face wet with tears. “What is _wrong_ with you?! Don't you realise my daughter's in there?! It should not take this long! Get down there and get her out!" she ordered.

Carol quickly approached, and escorted a sobbing Bob, along with the rest of his family, away from the crowd, to somewhere more quiet. There was the ranger station, about 50 yards away, and that was where the Belcher family were taken. Once inside, Bob collapsed on the sofa, wailing and pounding on the seat cushions. "Louise! My baby!" he howled and Linda sat next to him and took him in her arms and he cried into her chest, and she cried into him, as well. Gene and Tina stood next to their parents, not knowing what to do or say. They felt rather sick. Everything was going so very wrong.

Teddy appeared and approached Gene and Tina. He put his arms around their shoulders, wondering if he should take them home. He didn't want to speak and intrude.

"Maybe the children should stay here with you for a while," Carol suggested, sitting on the sofa next to Linda and rubbing her back. Teddy nodded, not wanting to bring them back to the well site. Covering his face with his hands, Bob slid down to the floor and cried into his knees.

"Please, please let her be alright," he whispered to no one in particular, choking on his words.

Gene noticed that Tina's hands were shaking, and he pulled her into a hug.

“What is happening?” she asked quietly, and Gene could only shake his head.

“This isn't real, right?” he asked, releasing his sister. “I mean, this is all some crazy dream; it's gotta be.”

“Well, which one of us is dreaming?” Tina wiped her wet eyes, “because if we can find out, then maybe we can wake up.”

“Let me see, let me see,” Gene placed a hand on his chin, before pinching his arm, hard. It was hard enough to cause him to yelp, and he concluded that he wasn't dreaming. This was doing an okay job of keeping their minds off Louise, though. Tina then pinched herself, gasping at the pain.

“I'm not dreaming, either. Maybe it's Mom or Dad?” They both glanced over at their distraught, sobbing parents.

“Uh, I'm not sure we should pinch them right now,” said Gene. “Wait! What if we're not waking up because we know it's ourselves who are pinching us?” At Tina's confused look, he continued, “pinch me as hard as you can; don't hold back!” he held out his arm, and Tina hesitated slightly before pinching.

Gene let out a high pitched whimper at the pain, and pulled his arm out of her grip. “Okay, so I'm definitely not dreaming; let me pinch you.” Tina groaned before holding out her arm, and Gene pinched her, not as hard as he could have, but hard enough to wake her up, if she was dreaming.

Tina yanked her arm away and looked around. She was in the park; there were police and firemen, paramedics, journalists, and her heartbroken parents.

“I'm not dreaming, either,” she admitted sadly.

“So, this is real?” Gene drooped upon realisation. “... What are we going to do?” he asked after a while.

“I don't know,” cried Tina, looking close to tears, “there isn't anything we can do, and I'm sick of standing around and waiting!”

“This cannot be happening, I don't understand!” At that moment, Teddy approached them again.

“Ju – just think of the moment when they get her,” he stuttered, trying to keep calm, trying to keep the children distracted and full of hope. “Think of how great it will be to see her.”

“She will be alright, won't she, Teddy?” Gene turned to face him.

“Louise is strong; she's a fighter. She won't give up, no matter what,” Teddy didn't want to lie to them.

“But – but why isn't she answering us?” asked Tina, sounding close to tears.

“I think she's in a very deep sleep,” said Teddy truthfully. “I think she hasn't been sleeping much over the past couple of days, and she's so tired, she can't stay awake any more.”

“Do you really believe that?” asked Gene.

“We've been telling her to get some sleep for ages; I think she's taking our advice.”

* * *

Most teachers kept the televisions in their rooms now, and tuned to the news. They figured it was better than their students on their phones throughout the lesson.

They still expected work to be done, however; the television was so they could keep up with the updates, especially Louise's classes, where the students would talk of nothing else. Due to it being a widely publicized local story, the rescue attempts were given live updates every hour, sometimes every half hour, which was what kept the students interested. Of course, many of them simply watched to avoid doing less schoolwork.

“ _The rescuers are still chipping away at the rock, using hand tools,”_ Olsen Benner was saying, reporting live from the well site, and the children in the fourth-grade maths class looked up at the television. _“Volunteers are unsure of how much longer it will take before they reach the well, but many believe it may not be until tomorrow.”_

Rudy stared at the television, his chest tightening with worry. He had already made up his mind to go down to Wharf Park after school had let out, again. He couldn't believe that his friend was still trapped. He felt sick as the camera panned down to the little well, with the wires and hoses inside it. His chest got even tighter; those wires and hoses were keeping his friend alive. He pulled out his inhaler and pumped it, but it didn't seem to have any effect, so he did it again.

He took a deep breath, trying to get some air into his lungs, but it wasn't working, and he raised his hand, gasping.

“Ms LaBonz?” he gasped, as the rest of the class turned around to look at him.

“What, Rudy?” she asked, looking up at the boy.

“Can I go to the nurse's office, please?”

“Fine, whatever,” she waved her hand, and the boy rose from his seat and left the classroom.

Rudy walked down the hallways, still gasping. His inhaler felt pretty full, but it couldn't hurt to have it checked, and possibly have a lie down in the meantime. He needed to get his mind off of what was happening to his friend.

When he reached the nurses' office, he entered, and Liz came over to him, looking bored. Unable to speak, he held out his inhaler, and she took it.

Rudy sat on the nearest bed, gasping for breath, while she went into her office. Liz reappeared a few moments' later, and handed him the inhaler. Rudy pumped it, again feeling no better. He pumped it again and lay down on his back. His breathing seemed to be easing up slightly, and he closed his eyes, trying to relax.

* * *

Even the teachers at Huxley High had given up trying to get their students to learn, and instead let the classes talk about the rescue operation during their lessons.No-one had expected it to take as long as it was, and in the playground, the odds that Louise would die that day grew even higher; now the winner would receive fifty dollars. Of course, there were other bets, would Louise die before the workers reached her (the odds were 10 - 1 that she would), the odds that she had one or more broken bones (the odds were 5 - 1 on that) and if she somehow made it out alive, how long her hospital stay would be; most people agreed on two weeks.

"You guys are sick," said Sarah, a ninth-grader, as she overheard two boys, John and Harrison, discussing their bets with each other. John had bet that Louise would die Tuesday night, before the drillers reached her, while Harrison bet that Louise would make it until Wednesday morning, after they had reached her, but before they could free her.

"What?" John turned to face her. "If I win, I get fifty dollars!"

"This is not a competition, or a horse race! A kid could die!" Like a lot of her classmates, Sarah was very invested in the story. She had a younger sister, and so she really empathised with Louise. She could not believe that people could be so callous as to take bets on a little girl's life and death situation. The television in the classroom was on and turned to the local news where Olsen Benner was giving a live report.

 _"Louise Belcher has been trapped eighty feet below ground for 92 hours now. It is no longer clear when rescuers are going to reach her; deadlines have passed several times now, and some rescue workers estimate that it could be another full day until they reach her. A Mine Safety specialist arrived a few hours ago to assist in the operation."_ Olsen looked away as Davis approached her. _"Chief Davis, could you give us an update, please?"_

_"Well, we are still digging over to reach the girl. We're still on the last foot, which we're digging by hand so as not to cause another cave-in. At the rate we're going, we could get her out by the end of today."_

_"Thank you, Chief,"_ came Olsen's voice as Davis left. _"Of course, hope is dwindling; the two police officers at the well have been constantly talking to Louise, trying to keep her awake and alert, but this morning, she wasn't answering, uh, they've been shouting down to her, but as far as we know, the little girl still isn't answering. Of course, everyone is hoping that she's sleeping, and they keep shouting down to her to try and wake her up. But, hopefully, she can hang in there for a little while longer."_ And the image cut back to Valerie Hope in the news studio.

_"Thank you, Olsen. Like everyone else, us here at the studio hope they can get Louise out very soon, as well. Of course, you have to feel for the rest of her family, especially her poor father; we have a video clip from this afternoon here; let's watch."_

The class watched silently as the camera focused on Tim and Charlie hollering down the well, trying to get Louise to answer them, and then Bob came into frame, screaming for his child and crying hysterically.

"I hope Louise is okay," said Charlotte sincerely, and a few of her more sympathetic classmates nodded.

"She's dead," said Blake, as though he knew for sure.

"You're sick!" the girl spat.

"And you're stupid!" he retorted. "Come on; four days in a well, no food. She's dead; deal with it."

"I don't understand how you can be so cruel," she shook her head in disbelief.

"Well, that's real life for you," he sneered before addressing the room as a whole. "How many people here think that she's dead?" he asked and about a third of the students raised their hands.

"I hope she isn't," said Charlotte, "because that would be a horrible way to die."

* * *

Four o'clock Tuesday afternoon marked Louise's 94th hour in the well. Bob and Linda remained at the little cafe, unable to face the fact that their daughter could be dead. Tim and Charlie had not yet heard Louise make a sound, although they continued to call her, and the images on the news truck showed Louise lying still, her head resting on her shoulder.

The drillers were still digging, and during the course of the past few hours, they had dug over three inches closer to where Louise was. Now that they were digging by hand, and only needed pickaxes, there was little for the other rescue workers to do while they were waiting for their turn, except for sharpening the picks. Every fifteen minutes, a pickaxe would be sent up to the surface, worn down to the core. The rescue workers would send down more equipment while they sharpened the tools.

Some of them spoke to reporters. Others spoke to the onlookers surrounding the well, mainly the little children. But mainly, they stood around the rescue shaft and well, occasionally talking to one another, waiting for their turn.

Gene, Tina and Teddy stood near the ambulance, too afraid to get any closer, silently watching the ongoing efforts. Gene's eyes were fixed on the workers surrounding the tunnel, while Tina couldn't even bring herself to look at the well. Teddy looked as though he had aged ten years.

As they continued to watch, they remained quiet; indeed, Tina feared she would vomit if she opened her mouth, so she just watched and waited, trying her best to not think of the worst, although it was difficult not when she was surrounded by the very thing she was trying not to think about.

Cheering jolted her from the thoughts she was trying not to think, and Tina instantly straightened up, her brown eyes scanning the park.

The rescue workers were gathered around the well, as were Richards and Davis. Tim and Charlie were up on their knees; they were all grinning widely. Davis noticed the kids' staring and hurried over to them.

"She was only sleeping," he grinned, relief all over his face. "She's awake now; she's making noises." For some reason, Tina felt like vomiting again. She had to be sure. She ran over to the well, along with Gene and Teddy, and jammed the headphones over her ears. At first, she couldn't hear anything, but then Charlie called down the well, and she soon heard Louise's faint, tired whimpering. Falling back onto her knees, Tina passed the headphones over to Gene in a daze. Gene beckoned Teddy in and they both ended up listening to Louise together.

That was what they needed to do; they needed to confirm that Louise was really alive before they told their parents, and the children ran over to the ranger station to find Bob and Linda on the bench. Bob's arms were wrapped around Linda's crumpled form, and they were both staring blankly into space, their faces swollen from crying.

"She was sleeping; she's awake!" shouted Gene, causing the parents' to look around at him. "I heard her; she's awake! She's alive!"

Linda did not say a word; she leapt up, and ran over to the well, where she dropped to her knees and jammed the headphones on her head.

"Louise? Louise?!" she called desperately, holding her breath until she heard her daughter's voice. "Oh, thank God!" Linda visibly sagged in relief, buried her face in her hands and cried. Bob, who was kneeling next to her, cried as well, as she passed him the headphones.

The two of them remained there for the rest of the afternoon, taking turns listening to their daughter.

The fact that Louise was still alive seemed to give the rescue workers new hope, and they worked harder than ever before, determined to free the girl. The volunteers crowded around the rescue shaft, waiting for the digger's shift to be over, and when it was, they were unable to bring them up fast enough, so that they could swap over. They continued to strengthen and sharpen drill bits, and when it was their turn to go down into the tunnel, they dug with all of their might, although the process remained frustratingly slow.

Olsen Benner was standing in front of the camera, giving an impromptu news report.

"This is Olsen Benner, reporting live from Wharf Park. We have an update in the rescue attempt of Louise Belcher. Throughout most of the day, uh, the little girl has been silent, which has led people to fear the worst, but it has now been confirmed that Louise was only sleeping, and they can now hear her. She's still alive, and is now awake. Of course, uh, the drilling of the tunnel continues, but it is still unknown just how long it will be before she will be rescued." There wasn't anything more to say, and so the camera switched off. Nathan had instructed her to call Louise names like "the little girl," "the child," and "the young girl," in order to garner sympathy, and so that's what she

was doing. Almost as soon as she had finished, she received a phone call from Nathan asking her to get one of the rescuers to do a live interview shortly. Olsen replied that she would see what she could do, and ventured into the park, making inquiries.

* * *

Linda and Bob were still sat by the well, sharing the headphones. They wouldn't let anyone else use them, barring Gene and Tina, of course. Their other children were sat on the camp chairs, with Teddy and Mort either side of them. Carol remained nearby, talking to Davis.

Bob was holding his wife's hand tightly, as she held the microphone, trembling slightly.

“It's okay, honey,” she called down into the darkness. “We're almost there; it won't be long, now. You'll be out soon, okay?” It upset her at how much she sounded like a broken record, but comforting her daughter was the only thing she could do for her, and she meant to do it. As long as they could hear Louise, then it meant that she was still alive.

Tim and Charlie did not ask them to move; after the scare they had all had, they couldn't ask these distraught parents to leave their child. Comforting Louise seemed to calm them down, and they were sure that Louise appreciated it, so they allowed them to stay as long as they wanted.

Not long after Olsen's report, newsreader Valerie Hope was giving an update for the afternoon news on the television.

_“Welcome to the six o'clock news, I'm Valerie Hope,”_ she smiled into the camera _. “Our top story; the ongoing rescue attempt of Louise Belcher. The nine-year-old girl has been trapped in a 14-inch well for over 96 hours now. She was pushed in on Friday evening, and since then, over two hundred volunteers have been working non stop to free her. We're live with one of the drillers now. Hello?”_ Viewers were then greeted with an image of a tired, dirty man with bags under his eyes. The driller, 28-year-old Kyle, was standing off to the side, looking into Olsen Benner's camera, an earpiece in his ear, covered by his dark hair.

“Yes, hello?” he asked, hearing a woman's voice in his ear.

_“Hi, sir, we were wondering if you -”_

“Hi.” Naturally, being live, there was a slight audio delay.

_“Hi, we were wondering what you can tell us about the rescue operation, and how it's going so far?”_

“Well, we are still digging a tunnel to reach her; we have about seven inches of rock to go, so we're hoping it's gonna be soon.”

_“Could you try and answer the question on everybody's lips, which is 'what is taking so long'?”_

“We were not prepared for the rock to be so hard; we didn't have the correct equipment at first.” Kyle spoke as professionally as he could; he had never been on television before. Olsen had been helping, advising him to speak clearly and to not hesitate. It wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be.

_“Can you explain what's going to happen when you reach the well?”_

“As soon as we reach it, we're going to use something to remove the bricks; we have to do that carefully, and then we'll send the paramedics down to actually get her out.”

 _“Why wait for the paramedics?”_ Valerie asked politely. _“Why not one of you just pull her out?”_ That caught Kyle off guard. He didn't really know why they had to send down the paramedics. Louise had been down there for far too long; why waste time re-rigging somebody when whoever was down there could just reach in and pull her out?

“Well, uh, well the, uh, the paramedics are trained in this kinda thing; I mean, we're just here to dig, but they know what they're doing.” Not the best answer, but it would do. Kyle made a mental note to speak to the paramedics later.

_“Okay. Tell me, sir, how is Louise holding up? What's the atmosphere like over there?”_

“Louise is still alive; she hasn't been talking much lately. We think she's been sleeping, and every so often, one of the officers by the well will keep calling and shouting down to her until she answers. Poor kid's probably exhausted, but we need her to keep communicating with us. The atmosphere is tense. The whole thing is just going far too slow for us. We're down there, working as hard and as fast as we can, and it feels like we're not getting anywhere. We all of us want to get her out, and the fact that's it's taking so long is like torture for us. We've been arguing and snapping at each other because we just feel so bad for that kid.”

_“What keeps you guys together? What makes you put aside the arguments and work with each other?”_

“We think about Louise,” said Kyle simply. “We think about her and what she must be going through. Once, a few of the guys were hungry and they were complaining, and then we remembered that Louise hasn't eaten in four days. It really puts things in perspective. If we get tired, we just think about Louise, and we work harder and faster.”

_“Okay. Well, thank you very much, Kyle, for your time, and we -”_

“Thank you.”

_“We hope you can get her out very soon.”_

“We hope so, too,” and thus Kyle's interview was concluded, and Valerie addressed the viewers once more.

_“Of course, another reason the rescue is taking so long is the fact that they don't want another cave-in. When Louise first fell in the well, a cave-in occurred when she landed at the bottom, leaving her buried in rubble up to her chest. So, the rescue tunnel was dug six feet away, to prevent another one from happening. The policemen, firemen, and the volunteers are saying that even though they've spent four days digging, if anyone has any quicker suggestions on how to get Louise out, they urge you to get in touch. However, one idea they have firmly vetoed is putting anybody else down into the well, as that would mean removing the oxygen lines being given to Louise, and putting her at risk of suffocation._

_“Now Janet has your weather report, and after the latest sports updates, we will be talking to the doctor on site. Stay tuned.”_

Tina and Gene now felt slightly relieved, now that they knew Louise was still alive. They was still worried, and would remain that way until their sister was free, which could not come soon enough.

They were sat with Teddy and Carol, watching their parents sit by the well.

The men surrounding the tunnel wore mixed expressions of happiness and apprehension. The air between the workers was still extremely tense, but right now they were too busy focusing on the fact that Louise was still alive to argue about who was going down to dig next.

The neighbours, kids from school, and other curious onlookers were still pressed up behind the barriers, amongst the reporters; Olsen and Ed were the only ones lucky enough to be near the well, and they stood off to the side, waiting.

The policemen on duty hung around the edges of the park, trying to prevent reporters from getting too close while simultaneously watching the rescue effort; the firemen crowded around the well and the rescue shaft, two of them helping Cabell monitor the amount of oxygen and warm air being given to Louise, exchanging the old tanks for new; the rest of the volunteers were standing around the flat-bed truck, continuing to mend and sharpen the pickaxes.

Everyone's eyes remained on the small hole in the centre of all this chaos; the sight of the well with the wire and hoses snaking down into it reminded everyone of what they were fighting for.

* * *

After a while, Bob came back over and sat with his children, while Linda remained by the well, still wearing the headphones.

“She.. doesn't wanna leave,” said Bob after a while. “She wants to stay with her.” The kids' did not reply. There was nothing they could say. Even though they had the good news that Louise was alive, the atmosphere was still very tense and sombre. Sometimes, Tina could hardly believe that what was happening was real. It seemed like a bad dream, or an overly dramatic television movie, where unrealistic scenes kept being forced upon them, no matter how ridiculous they were. But this was real, and it was so scary. If she were writing this as a story, she wouldn't have allowed this to happen.

“Is Louise scared?” asked Gene after a while in a small voice.

“Probably,” said Bob, although he felt certain that Louise was scared; it was not something he wanted to think about. The fact that he was unable to do anything for his frightened child felt as though he were being continually punched in the gut. “Why?”

“Because she hasn't been talking much lately.” Of course, they knew why; the longer Louise remained in the well, the weaker and more dehydrated she became; after a while, talking would require energy that she just did not have.

“I guess she's pretty tired,” Bob told his son, trying to keep his voice even.

“Why doesn't she sleep?” asked Gene, which only brought up more scenarios that the family did not really want to think of. Perhaps Louise wasn't sleeping because she was too scared; perhaps the noise from the drilling was too loud, or perhaps she simply was unable to in her current position.

“I don't know,” Bob said honestly, while Tina was silently willing Gene to fall quiet. “She's just woken up; maybe she's not tired right now.”

“I just wanna know if Louise is okay,” he whispered after a while, looking at the ground. Bob looked down at his son, before pulling him onto his lap.

“The truth is... we don't know,” he said quietly, his voice cracking slightly. “We know she's alive, and that's good news, but that's all we know.”

“But she'll be okay when they get her out, right?” Gene looked up at his frazzled father.

“We don't know that, either,” Bob admitted, deciding to just tell his son the truth. “She could be in any condition down there.”

“Can we be there when they bring her up? I want to see her,” said Gene.

“'Course you can,” said Bob, unable to stop a tear rolling down his cheek. “We'll all be there, and we'll be the first people Louise sees when she comes up.”

“Don't cry, Dad, they'll get her,” said Gene innocently, wiping the stray tear away from his father's face.

“I know they will,” Bob was unable to stop more tears from falling. “I know they will; I just want her now.”

“Me, too,” Gene was welling up, and he wrapped his arms around Bob's neck, hugging him tightly, and both of them crying.

Tina was fighting back tears; she was determined not to cry. It was very emotional, and Tina felt close to tears, but she wouldn't cry. She had this strange paranoia that crying would be inviting the worst to happen, and so she concentrated on keeping her dry eyes focused on the well.

Over by the ambulance, Olsen was fitting Dr Cabell with an earpiece in preparation for his interview.

“Just remember to speak clearly,” she told him, as Ed raised his camera, “and you'll be fine. I'll cue you in when it's about to start.”

“Okay,” Cabell nodded, looking into the camera.

Valerie Hope, in an update for the 6:30 news slot, smiled into the camera.

_“Good evening, everyone. I'm Valerie Hope. We're live now with Dr Cabell, a physician who has been monitoring Louise Belcher ever since Friday. Doctor, can you tell us anything new, either about the rescue operation or Louise's condition?”_

“Well, the drillers are still digging, Louise is still alive, and we're just hoping they can get to her very soon.”

_“Do you have any concerns about Louise, being stuck in that well?”_ Cabell took a deep breath.  


“I am overly concerned. I'm not sure if Louise has sustained any major injuries; she hasn't been talking lately, and she doesn't sound like she's in any pain, but she sounds exhausted. If she were bleeding, she would have bled out already. However, as she's trapped under rubble, there is the possibility of organ damage. Louise told us her back hurts, so she could potentially have a spinal injury. Right now, my biggest worries are dehydration and her breathing; she's breathing quite quickly. We've given her water, but not too much, in case of internal injuries. I've already given the paramedics strict instructions, that when they get her out, to not treat her in the tunnel. Just get her above ground, so we can get her in the ambulance and to the hospital. I don't want to waste any time.”

_“You said that she'd had water, but only a little bit?_ ” Valerie confirmed.

“Yeah, we don't want to complicate any internal injuries she may have; we don't know what injuries she has; we won't know until she's out.” 

_“Okay, thank you very much.”_

“Thank you, ma'am,” said Cabell, and Olsen held up her finger briefly before telling him he was finished.

“Okay, cut! That was great, thank you, doctor,” she grinned. Cabell smiled back, before heading back over to the well.

 _“As Dr Cabell has mentioned,”_ Valerie continued for the viewers at home, _“it is still unknown what sort of injuries the little girl has, and organ damage is quite possible. Hopefully, it will not be too long until she is freed. Keep tuning for regular live updates on the rescue progress.”_

* * *

A group of the dishevelled diggers stood around the rescue shaft, as one volunteer did his best to break through the rock.

Kyle, the man who had been interviewed, was talking to them.

“So, I was talking to that lady, just answering her questions, and she asks me, why can't one of us get Louise out? Think about it, whoever breaks through, just pulls the bricks out, and grabs her.”

“Well, what did you tell her?” asked Martin.

“The question kinda stumped me; I kinda stuttered over it. But it's true, right? Why waste time with the paramedics, when one of us could just do it?”

“Didn't the doctor say she could have a back injury?” said Joe. “That's probably why they want the medics down there.”

“I get that, I get what you're saying, but I really think that it wouldn't be a big deal if one of us got her out.”

Martin managed to catch the attention of Patrick and beckoned him over.

“Hey, do you think it would be a good idea if whoever broke through to the well, got Louise out?” he asked, and Patrick looked shocked.

“That would be terrible,” he said.

“But why?” asked Kyle. “She needs to get out of there.”

“I know, but, no offence, you guys don't have training. We're gonna have to do this carefully. If you pull her the wrong way, you could break her spine. If the nerves that control her breathing are severed, she could die.” Upon hearing that, the group of men fell silent. That was all they needed to hear.

“Well.. thanks, man. We'll, uh, leave that up to you, then,” said Kyle quietly, and Patrick only nodded before walking away.

* * *

Bob returned to the well and sat down, placing his arm around Linda's shoulders. Neither of them spoke; she merely passed him the headphones, and Bob put them on.

“Louise?” he called down the well, hearing nothing. “Louise?” he called again when he got no answer, trying not to worry.

“You have to... call her a few times,” said Linda, her voice thick. “She's trying so hard,” she bit her lip, trying to hold in the tears. Bob nodded, trying to keep from crying himself, and continued to call down to his daughter. Soon enough, he heard a faint little noise, and he sighed in relief, a few tears falling down his cheeks. “Don't cry,” Linda said quietly. “Don't cry; everything's gonna be fine.” That was what she kept telling herself; she refused to believe the worst, because if she did, then what was the point of carrying on?

“I know it is,” Bob tried his best to think positively. “But I just want her out.”

“So do I, but she'll be out tonight; you wait and see.”

Bob and Linda remained seated by the well, taking turns to listen and talk to Louise, sharing the headphones between them, while Gene and Tina sat together with Teddy, Mort, and Carol.

Louise was still alive, but she was growing weaker and weaker. She could only make the faintest sounds and she sounded so utterly exhausted. She no longer whimpered, but she kept breathing heavily, as though she was out of breath, or as though she was too tired to cry.

Linda felt awful for making Louise answer her, but it was their only way of making sure that she was still alive. At times, Tim or Charlie would lower the microphone down even further to try to hear her breathing without them having to call her.

* * *

Now, what seemed like every household in New Jersey was glued to their televisions, tuned in to the drama at Wharf Park, Seymour's Bay. A lot of this interest was outrage at the amount of time the rescue was taking. Many thought that it was getting beyond a joke, and that this all should have ended days ago.

The national news were all over the story; many major newspapers featured the ongoing rescue as a cover story, while the rest of the reporters from out of state kept their viewers interested by drawing attention to the fact that a young girl was struggling to stay alive, and at how long it was taking to save her.

Another thing which kept the story in the news was the fact that Louise was still alive, which caused even more disbelief. Viewers from over New Jersey and beyond wondered how it was possible that Louise was still alive; she had had no food for four days. Again, it was just the sort of drama that the press loved.

"I cannot believe she's still alive; she's a fighter," said one mother, as she and her friends sat in her comfortable home just outside of Seymour's Bay, watching the news reports.

“I know,” said her friends. “Such a brave little girl,” and the rest of the ladies nodded in agreement.

"She must have been put on this Earth for a reason,” one elderly man said to his wife as they heard a radio blurb whilst out shopping in Cumberland.

“How the hell is she still alive?!” a group of men were shouting as they stood around the water cooler in Galloway.

"I can't believe she's still down there. Poor kid,” said a wife to her husband over dinner in New York.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “If they get her out in time, she's gonna need a lot of help.”

"Are they actually gonna get her out, or just stand around and talk about it?" one young man said sarcastically, as he sat in a bar in Oklahoma.

* * *

Bob tried not to get his hopes up, but he couldn't help thinking that Louise could be out of the well before the day was out. He and Linda had finally moved away, so they could sit with Gene and Tina for a while. They had around eight inches of rock to go until they reached her, and hearing that made his heart leap. It couldn't take much longer, it had to be soon. Carol was standing next to them, having just told them this information.

“I'm gonna go talk to Louise,” said Gene after moment, making his way over to the well.

“Can't wait to see her,” Linda sounded strained, but she kept her voice even. “I wanna ride in the ambulance with her, in the back.”

“Oh, well, it might be a bit crowded -”

“I don't care; I want to be with her. I'm her mother.”

“I know ma'am, but your doctor is going to be in the back, and it's likely that the paramedic will be in the back, too. There just won't be enough room.”

“Well, then, the paramedic can ride up front!” Linda said, glancing over at the well, where Gene was sat with the headphones over his ears.

“Well, I'll speak to the Chief; see what I can do, but I don't think they'll allow it,” Carol warned before walking away.

“I just wanna be there with her,” Linda turned to Bob.

“So do I,” said Bob. “I can't wait for all of this to be over. The sooner, the better.”

Against all odds, the family began to feel a glimmer of hope. Louise, miraculously, was still alive, and they were close to reaching her. Even though they were all still very anxious, the thought that Louise could be rescued before the day was out made their hearts leap a tiny bit. There was still that worry hanging over them; any second bad news could come, and although none of them would admit it, each family member felt uneasy about getting their hopes up.

The only way they would be able to breathe again would be to see Louise brought up from the well, alive. Nothing else would do.

It was now 10pm. Louise had been in the well for 100 hours. The rescue workers still had five inches of rock to go, but at that moment, Bob and Linda were preparing to take Gene and Tina home, so that they could get some sleep.

“No, we wanna stay here!” cried Gene, as he and his sister were escorted by their parents and Carol to a police car.

“Gene, you need to get some sleep; you're both exhausted,” Bob told him, pointing out the bags under his children's eyes.

“Well, what about you? Those aren't bags under your eyes; those are suitcases!” Gene cried, and Bob chuckled, in spite of himself.

“I'm a grown-up; I'm supposed to have them,” he said, ushering his children into the car, before climbing in himself. He and Linda had already decided that they were going to return to the well site once Gene and Tina were asleep.

As the car set off, the Belcher kids continued to complain.

“But, Mom, they're so close! It could happen tonight!” said Tina, leaning forward so she could see her mother.

“I know, sweetie, and when they reach her, they'll come get us,” said Linda patiently. “We won't miss them bringing her up, okay?”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Once the children were in bed asleep, Bob and Linda prepared to go back out. Carol was waiting for them in the hallway.

Naturally, the parents hadn't been too concerned about themselves over the past couple of days, and Bob and Linda took the opportunity to freshen up a tiny bit. She brushed her wild hair, and put on deodorant, while Bob hurriedly brushed his teeth, as he could swear his were growing moss.

They both went into the living room, where the phone was charging. Linda had only sat down for a micro-second, to re-tie her shoe, before she had fallen asleep.

Bob momentarily considered leaving her there, before deciding against it. He knew she wanted to be there with Louise, just as he did. He wouldn't have wanted her to leave him asleep, and so he bent down to wake her up.

Carol entered the living room to find both parents sleeping on the sofa. She thought about waking them up, but they looked so exhausted, that she decided to leave them be.

Heading quietly down the stairs, Carol closed the front door softly, before heading back to Wharf Park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think?  
> I have the next chapter all written out, so if you want, I could upload earlier? Let me know!


	6. Chapter 6

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 6

The men continued working late into the night. As it had been over the past few days, the crowd had dispersed when it got too late for them. Only the reporters remained, and the journalists occasionally muttered to each other as they watched the proceedings.

The air seemed sombre; the two dozen volunteers scattered about the area only spoke when necessary – to communicate with whoever was working in the tunnel. Other than that, they were silent.

The reporters were sat behind the barriers, some resting their heads in their hands, others stretching back on the cool grass to catch a quick nap.

The men surrounding the rescue shaft were also sitting, with little else to do but wait their turn. Many of them were drinking coffee, trying to stay awake. The cold February air helped a lot.

It was now almost 3:45am; Louise had been trapped for five days. By the well, Charlie was sleeping, while Tim lay on his back, the headphones over his ears. He hadn't heard her make a sound for more than eight hours, but Cabell had been watching the camera, and she had been seen to move, so it was decided to let her sleep.

They were getting very close; the breakthrough was due at any moment, which was what they were all waiting for. The men were prepared; they had new tools, ready for when they reached the well. They had awls, a screwdriver-type device, to be used for making holes in the solid rock. They also had star drill hand tools. The diggers were currently using pickaxes and chisels, which were doing the job fine, but Richards and Davis wanted better tools.

Olsen and Ed were still awake, although Olsen was looking a little worse for wear. She was sat down, her back resting against a tree, her knees pulled up to her chest. She removed her jacket, and placed it over herself, resting her eyes for just a moment.

The eyes of almost everyone in the garden were fixed on the well; knowing that Louise was alive kept their spirits up, and as they were less than an inch away from her, they began to hope, hope that they would be able to save her.

* * *

One of the diggers was lying on his stomach in the tunnel, holding a small pick-axe, digging above his head. It became more difficult the longer the tunnel got; the men had to lie on their stomachs with their tools stretched out in front of them. As he adjusted the tool slightly, he heard a new, different sound. He quickly wriggled forward as easily as he could, and wiped the dust and small, crumbly bits of rock away. Taking off his mask, he blew some more dust away and saw something dull and red. Removing his glove, he gently tapped it, a huge grin spreading over his face when he realised that it was the brick lining of the well. They had reached her.

“Sir?” he quickly fumbled for his walkie-talkie, and heard the voice of the Fire Chief come through.

“ _What is it?”_

“Sir, I've reached the well,” Eric held the walkie-talkie away from his face; through it, and through the shaft, he could hear cheering.

“ _That's great; how big of a hole have you made?”_

“I haven't made a hole yet, sir; I've just reached it.”

“ _Okay, carry on digging the rest of the tunnel, and when we're done, we'll send someone down to start removing the bricks. Good job!”_

“Yes, sir, thank you,” Eric raised the pick-axe and continued to chip, digging the outline of the tunnel, working as quickly as he could.

When his shift was over, he wriggled out of the tunnel, and was promptly brought to the surface. The cheering that he had heard through the walkie-talkie was repeated when he came above ground. His fellow volunteers were beaming and crowded around him, clapping him on the back, and giving thumbs up. Olsen was now standing, and Ed had the camera focused on him.

“Great job,” said Richards, as the next man was getting rigged up.

“Thank you, sir,” grinned Eric, feeling beyond relieved.

“I'll give the family a call, and go get them,” said Carol, grabbing her jacket from the floor as she left the park.

The men and women collectively breathed a sigh of relief as Samuel went down into the tunnel to continue digging.

* * *

The sound of the phone ringing woke Bob and Linda, who were annoyed to find out that they had fallen asleep. Linda grabbed the phone and saw that it was an unknown number. She looked over at Bob, hesitating. She was afraid to answer it.

Eventually, she flipped it open and held it to her ear.

“Hello?” she said, her voice tight, and gripping Bob's hand.

“ _Hello, Mrs Belcher?”_ came Carol's voice.

“Yes?”

“ _They've reached the well,”_ Carol said through her headset, as she drove to the Belcher residence.

“Are – are you serious?” said Linda, her eyes widening. “Bobby, they've reached the well!” Bob gasped, and his free hand flew to his mouth.

“They have?” he asked, hardly daring to believe it.

“They've reached her, they've reached her! Kids, kids, wake up!” Linda leapt up and began dancing in a mixture of happiness and anxiousness. “They've really reached her?” she asked, realising she was still holding the phone.

“ _Yes, ma'am; they reached it less than five minutes ago. I'm just on my way to your home now.”_

“We'll be ready!” Linda cried, as Gene and Tina ran into the room. “They've reached the well!” Linda ran at her kids, grinning at the their reactions; Tina jumped up and down, cheering, and Gene whooped and punched the air. Bob was still sat on the sofa, muttering “thank God,” over and over again. “Okay, kids, get ready, we gotta go!” Linda clapped her hands, bouncing with excitement. It was finally happening; Louise was going to get out of the well. Her children nodded and raced back to their rooms to get dressed. Linda looked over at Bob, whose face looked like it was about to split in two, he was grinning so widely. It was sinking in properly for him now.

“They've reached her!” he cried, his eyes welling up, as he clutched Linda's hands. “They've really reached her!”

“Thank God!” Linda hugged him tightly, before grabbing their jackets, as a knock sounded at the door.

Gene and Tina re-entered the living room, fully dressed, albeit a bit unkempt, while Bob answered the door to Carol, and Linda began shepherding the children downstairs, and out the front door.

Although it was barely 4am, the Belcher siblings were wide awake, and were practically squirming with anticipation.

“Finally!” Gene cried, rubbing his eyes, but looking elated. “So, when we get there, they'll be getting ready to bring her up?”

“Not quite,” said Carol. “Right now, the hole is about the size of a quarter. They're just going to finish making the hole bigger, and then someone will go down to remove the bricks, and then we'll get her out.”

“So, how long will it take? An hour?” asked Gene.

“We estimate no more than a couple of hours,” Carol said, noting the family's apprehensive looks. “I know you've been told that from the very beginning, but we're there now. We've almost got her.”

When they arrived at the park, they immediately went over to the well, and the four of them crouched down beside it.

“Is she awake?” asked Bob, and Tim shook his head.

“She's been sleeping since about eight o'clock,” he said, stretching.

“Okay; I'm gonna tell her that we've reached her. She'll be happy to hear it,” said Linda. Tim only passed her the headphones and microphone, and she called down to Louise, holding her breath when she didn't answer her.

“Louise!” she called, trying to remain calm. “Please, I know you're tired, but you've got to keep talking. You don't even have to talk; just make a noise when I call you. Louise? Sweetie?” What she heard was so faint and croaky that it barely qualified as an answer, but it was Louise, and that was good enough for Linda. “Louise, baby, it's good news; they've reached the well. They're there. You'll be out in just a few hours, isn't that great? All they've gotta do is remove the bricks, and then you'll be out. We're all here, waiting for you, and we'll all be here when they bring you up. We love you, baby.”

Linda went and stood next to Bob, and they both kept their eyes on the tunnel. Although they knew it would be at least three hours, they were beaming. They knew that before the day was out, they would see their daughter again.

As the night went on, Gene and Tina fell asleep in their chairs. They didn't plan on it, but they hadn't got much sleep over the past week, and knowing that their sister was going to be rescued very soon relaxed and relieved them so much that they just nodded off.

Bob had looked over his shoulder when he saw his sleeping children, and he removed his jacket, placing it over Tina to keep her warm. Following his lead, Linda did the same to Gene, before they both sat down next to the well.

“I can't believe they're done,” said Bob quietly, looking down into the well.

“I know,” a small smile came over Linda's face as she leaned into Bob. “Oh, I can't wait to see her.”

“Me, too. When they bring her up, we'll be as close as we can. The first thing I'm gonna do is give her a great big hug.”

“Aw, that's sweet. I'm gonna hug her as well.”

“She'll be glad to see us,” said Bob. “We'll, uh, we'll have to think of who's going to ride with her in the back.” Linda straightened up and looked at him.

“Oh, right; there won't be enough room for both of us,” she remembered. “Do we have to decide right now?”

“Well, it might be easier to figure it out before they bring her up.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. So, we both wanna be there with her, but there's only room for one of us. How do we decide?”

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Bob suggested, but Linda looked thoughtful.

“Maybe... maybe none of us should ride in the back,” she said slowly.

“What?”

“Well, we both wanna do it, but we can't, and we can't make that decision. So, how about both of us ride up front?”

“Are you serious?”

“I can't imagine not being in the back with her, and you can't either, right?” Bob only nodded. “We aren't gonna be able to decide; even if we randomly choose, we both wanna be with Louise. I just think it's fair this way.”

“You've got a point, Lin,” he said quietly. He realised that she was right; if she was in the back with Louise, he would be upset, because that's where he wanted to be. And if he was in the back with her, Linda would be upset. “I guess both of us in the front would be best. And it's not like we won't be able to see her; there's a window.”

“Yeah,” was all Linda said, once again leaning into her husband.

Just like their children, they eventually fell asleep, as well, curled up together at the wellhead.

* * *

The front cover of the local newspaper that morning had a large picture of an ecstatic looking rescue team, their tired, grinning faces lined with dust and dirt. _'Rescuers reach the well'_ the headline read, and the clip of the volunteers celebrating after the breakthrough had been featured on the news that morning.

_The Oceanside Times,_

_February 27 th, 2019_

_For the past week, Wharf Park has been surrounded by police tape, fire engines and police cars. The personnel surrounding the area have not left for five days; policemen have barely slept, firemen are working around the clock; they are racing against time to save a child's life._

_When paramedic Patrick Baker arrived at Wharf Park last Friday, he was confused; the radio dispatcher said that a young girl had fallen into a well, and the medic could see no well in the park. Instead, there was a brick-lined hole, fourteen inches in diameter._

“ _I just couldn't believe it,” said Patrick, when he discovered that nine-year-old Louise Belcher was stuck in the well. “I've never seen anything like this before.” Patrick, along with fellow paramedic, Simon Landon, were the first to reach the park after receiving the call. “I was thinking of a wishing well,” Patrick admitted, his dust-covered face showing the strain of the past week. When Patrick realised Louise was trapped in the well and buried in rubble, he knew he had his work cut out for him._

_Ever since that day, rescuers have been digging non-stop to free Louise; over 200 volunteers have spent more than 100 hours drilling a tunnel to reach her. At 3:49am this morning, workers reached the well, and are in the process of widening the hole._

_Louise is trapped 80 feet below ground; she was pushed in by a teenage boy, Logan Bush, who had been bullying her. The fifteen-year-old approached Louise on Friday evening with the intention of performing a wrestling move on her, as “revenge” for her throwing a rotten cantaloupe, which landed on him. However, Logan shoved the child, causing her to stumble backwards and fall into the uncovered well. It is not yet known whether the Belchers plan to press charges against him._

_However, Logan and his mother claim that Louise hired a biker gang to cut off Logan's ears after he stole her hat, which the Belcher family deny. They do have connections to a biker gang, who are regulars in the family restaurant, Bob's Burgers. The biker gang also deny Logan's accusation._

_The little girl, described by police as “bossy,” and “frustrated,” has been passing the time by sleeping on and off over the past two days, and ordering the rescue workers around._

“ _At first, she wouldn't sleep much,” said officer Tim Williams, who has also been reading stories to Louise to keep her occupied, “because she was too busy telling us to get her out. I think the drilling kept her awake, too, but then I guess she just got too tired, because she's been sleeping more lately.”_

_Fire Chief James Richards said Louise's age was a helpful factor in the rescue efforts._

“ _Most kids who fall into wells are toddlers,” he said, “but Louise is nine, which means that she's able to communicate with us, and she understands that we're getting her out, whereas a toddler might not.” The doctor on site mentioned that Louise's age also meant that she will not quickly forget her ordeal._

“ _This will probably affect her for a long time,” revealed Dr Cabell. “But, luckily, she has a very supportive family, who will help her get through this.” He mentioned the child may need some form of therapy to help her process everything. “I can't think of even any adults who wouldn't need to talk to someone after going through something like this. I don't want to speculate on how she will handle things, but the support will be there for her.”_

_Oxygen and warm air are being constantly pumped into the well to keep Louise warm and alert, and doctors have been lowering sugar water down to her. They have not given her any food for fear it could worsen any internal injuries she may have._

“ _It's a miracle she's still alive,” revealed Deputy Police Chief Jack Davis. “She's had no food for five days.”_

_When questioned about Louise's health, Davis grew forlorn. “She's getting weaker,” he admitted. “She's not talking any more; she doesn't have the energy. The doctor says she's breathing rapidly, and she didn't touch any of the water yesterday. We're hoping to have her out very soon.”_

* * *

A few hours later, Linda woke, unaware that she'd even fallen asleep. Slightly confused by the lightening sky, she turned to the two policemen next to her.

“What time is it?”

“Seven o'clock, ma'am,” Charlie told her after checking his watch. Quickly counting, Linda realised that Louise had been in the well for 109 hours. She felt sick.

“How far have they got?” she asked.

“The hole is about this big,” Tim held up his hands about ten inches apart, and Linda's heart leapt.

“So, just a few more hours?” she said hopefully.

“We hope so, ma'am.” Although Linda felt irritated that they could not give her a more accurate answer, she was too drained to argue, and so settled for looking about the park, stretching silently.

Apart from the sky, the first thing she noticed was that there were a lot more reporters there. A lot. Most of them had made the journey from several other states after learning of how a young girl was fighting for her life, and they were close to reaching her; this was the sort of drama that could make ratings skyrocket.

The reporters were squashed in between the usual crowd of curious onlookers; as it was still early morning, the crowd was small. They were squashed behind the barriers, jostling, leaning, trying to see _something._ The constant chattering from the media and the onlookers mingled with the non-stop digging sounds from down below. Police and firemen conferred together, some of them would occasionally order the crowd to move back; the paramedics loitered by the ambulance, chatting; volunteers snapped and argued with each other; metal clanked against metal as tools were repaired and placed aside; footsteps scraped over the dry, dusty ground; the air compressors sounded like electrical saws; the canvas tubes rustled loudly as the wind shifted them, and throughout all of this, people were calling out, to Linda, to the police, anybody who would talk to them.

It all seemed very loud, even to Linda, and she found herself unable to tune the noise out as she had done previously.

Linda suddenly felt trapped; she stood and pushed her way over to the news truck. There were lots of reporters gathered in front of it, talking together, taking pictures of the TV screen and taking notes. They took no notice of her until she tried to pass them, and then they began to swarm around the exhausted mother.

“Mrs Belcher!” Once again, cameras flashed and microphones were thrust into her face, and Linda was surrounded.

“Over, here, Mrs Belcher!”

“Can you give us a statement?”

“Mrs Belcher, do you think your daughter is going to be rescued any time soon?”

“Mrs Belcher, how do you feel, knowing how close they are?”

“Please, let me through!” she gasped, trying to push them aside, to no avail.

“Mrs Belcher, is there anything you'd like to say?”

“How do you feel about the way the rescue effort is going?”

“Let me through!” Linda repeated, but they did not listen and continued to crowd around her. For all of her efforts, Linda could not push past the media wall, and police had to step in.

“Move back!” an unknown officer snapped, stepping in front of Linda. “Back, back! Give her some room!” By himself, he was not making much progress, and so another officer, whom Linda also didn't know, stepped in as well. The two men managed to usher the media back, though they still clamoured nearby, as Linda was able to get close to the truck, and she looked up at the screen. There was Louise, her daughter. She needed to see her, and this was the closest she could get. Louise wasn't moving, but Linda knew she was still alive. She reached out and gently touched the screen, stroking the image, oblivious to the cameras flashing. Tears were building up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She wouldn't allow herself to cry any more; she was going to be strong for Louise. It was the least she could do for her.

* * *

Regular-sized Rudy sat at the kitchen table, eating his cereal, not looking forward to another day at school. The television was off as his mother didn't allow it on at mealtimes; she said that he needed to learn to eat without being glued to a screen.

Nonetheless, Rudy pulled out his phone, intending to check the news. When the screen lit up, he saw that he had a few text messages. At first, he was a little bit excited, as nobody really texted him, apart from his dad, and he was worried because, again, nobody texted him.

“ _Hey theyre sayin that theyve reached louise”_ came the text from Zeke, and Rudy's jaw dropped. Abandoning his cereal, he turned on the television, and put the news on. Olsen Benner was standing near the rescue tunnel, speaking into the camera.

_"At 3:50am this morning, rescue workers finally reached the well that little Louise Belcher is trapped in. Currently, they are working on making the hole big enough for a paramedic to reach through and grab her. Officials have said that they have not yet broken through to the well, and that when the hole is big enough, an underground safety specialist will go down and remove the bricks. Then, after that, the paramedics can be sent down._

“ _Louise's family are all here; they arrived not long after the breakthrough, and they will, of course, be the first ones to be told when Louise is actually out, and they are going to travel to the hospital with her._

“ _Louise has now been trapped 80 feet underground for 110 hours; authorities say that she is still alive, but that she is weak. They are positive that they will rescue her in the next 2 – 3 hours.”_

Rudy switched the set off, and grabbed his backpack, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” came his mother's voice, and Rudy turned to see her in the doorway of the kitchen. “You haven't finished your breakfast.”

“Mom, they've reached Louise!” he grinned. “It won't be long before they get her out; I'm going down to Wharf Park to watch.”

“No, you're not,” she said, and Rudy looked confused. “It's a school day; you can't miss school.”

“Mom, Louise is my best friend, and she's about to be rescued; I want to go and watch.”

“Rudy, honey, I've told you before; Louise isn't a good friend for you; she's too reckless, and she makes you do things that you're not strong enough for. You know you tire easily.” Rudy remained silent; it wasn't the first time he'd heard this. “Listen, honey,” her voice softened. “I know you're worried about your friend, and I understand. But they're not gonna get her out for a few more hours. In fact, I'd bet five dollars that she's still in there by the time school lets out, and you can go watch then, like you always do.”

“Okay, Mom,” said Rudy.

“Okay, now you get ready for school; you don't want to be late. Do you want me to drive you there?”

“No, that's okay; I'll catch the bus,” said the boy, and his mother gave him a quick hug before he left the house.

Rudy did indeed catch the bus; however, it wasn't the school bus. He took the one that went the opposite way, and headed to Wharf Park. He didn't care what his mother said; he was going to watch Louise come up. She wasn't just his best friend, she was pretty much his only friend. He liked the fact that she didn't treat him any different due to his asthma. She didn't coddle him, as most children (and adults) tended to do. She pushed him to his limits, and he loved the thrill, the adrenaline rush.

When he arrived at the park, he squeezed his way through the crowd to the front of the barriers. To his surprise, most of the fourth-grade class was there, along with Jimmy Jr, Zeke, Darryl, Wayne, even Tammy, Jocelyn, and Becky Krespe, amongst others he did not know. Millie was standing at the very front of the barriers, directly in front of the well, her hands clasped tightly over her chest, looking anxious and hopeful. “Hey, guys,” he said, standing next to Zeke and the Pesto twins. “How far have they gotten?”

“They're making the hole big enough for someone to get into,” said Jimmy Jr. “They said it'll be a few hours.”

“So, what time do you think it'll be?” he asked.

“I reckon a little after midday; one o'clock, maybe,” said Zeke, and Jimmy Jr nodded.

“I hope it's sooner than that,” said Rudy. “I can't wait until they get her.” He looked over at Tammy and Jocelyn, the girls glued to their phones. “Didn't think you guys would be here,” he said to her.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm real concerned,” said Tammy absent-mindedly, texting away.

“Oh, my God, Tammy,” Jocelyn whispered loudly, “it was a great idea to come here so we don't have to go to school!”

“Shut it, Jocelyn,!” Tammy hissed, and her friend giggled nervously.

Rudy looked away and focused his attention back on the well. He didn't have time for them; he only cared about Louise in that moment.

* * *

Teddy had arrived shortly after 7am, after Bob had called him, and he was standing next to the Belchers, as was Mort. Bob had called his father, who had said that he was on his way.

“This is amazing,” said Linda, her eyes sparkling. “We're gonna see her very soon.” She placed her arms around Gene and Tina, beaming, as Carol approached them.

“They're almost done widening the hole,” she told them, smiling as the group clapped and grinned. “They estimate that it'll be another hour, and then they can start removing the bricks.”

“And then she'll be out!” cried Gene, throwing his hands up in the air.

“And then she'll be out,” Carol reiterated, smiling down at him.

“This is just – I can't believe it's finally happening,” said Bob. “Finally, they're going to get her.”

“I know. Oh, finally, we're going to see her,” Linda smiled, putting her arms around her children, as they gazed at the well.

“Bob! Bob!” Looking to his left, Bob saw his father pushing through the crowd. Big Bob hugged his son and daughter-in-law, before turning to his grandchildren.

“Hey, Pop-pop,” said Tina, leaning in for a hug.

“Hey, kids,” he grinned at them. “You excited to see your sister?”

“Yeah, we are!” cried Gene, louder than he had intended, which was pretty loud.

“Thanks for coming down,” said Bob, as his father straightened up and nodded.

“So, how long until she comes up?”

“They're still making the hole big enough, so maybe two hours?” said Bob, and his dad nodded.

“You know,” he said after a while, “she's amazing to have made it through all this.”

“Yeah,” Linda agreed. “She really is.”

* * *

A veteran driller named Martin was lying on his stomach in the tunnel, chipping away at the rock. He had been doing this for over half an hour, now, and he was very close to finishing. The hole had been made to be the same size as the tunnel, and Martin was removing the rock in the centre. Once he saw brick, he would move the chisel over slightly, and continue the process.

When he had finished, he looked at his handiwork; there, right in the middle of the pale grey rock, was a wall of brick straight down the centre; the well that held Louise. All they had to do was take the bricks out; the only thing separating Louise from freedom.

“Sir?” he picked up his walkie-talkie, lowering his mask. “It's all done. All we gotta do is take those bricks out.”

“ _Right,”_ came the voice of Richards, _“get out of there, and we can send Douglas down. Good job!”_

“Thank you, sir. Coming out right now.” Martin placed the walkie-talkie back into his belt, and slithered out of the tunnel.

Above ground, Richards approached the Belcher family.

“Well, we're done widening the hole,” he told them, looking at their excited faces. “When he comes up, we'll send the mine specialist straight down to start removing the bricks.” He looked over at Bob as the man sniffled and wiped away a tear. “We don't know how long it'll take to remove the bricks,” he admitted. “Douglas has told us that he needs to do it carefully, so it may take up to an hour.”

“As long as they get her out,” said Bob, wiping another tear away.

“We're very close,” Richards told him. “With luck, she'll be out before noon.” Bob checked Teddy's watch as Richards walked away; it was 10:20am, and he looked up, watching as Douglas was rigged up.

“I can't believe it,” he said quietly, his heart thumping with happiness. “They're gonna get her out.” A smile resting across his face, Bob, his family, Teddy, and Mort watched as Douglas was lowered into the tunnel, down the 85 feet to the very bottom. When he was there, he unclipped himself from the cable, and peered into the cross-tunnel. Switching on his mining light, he climbed in.

Douglas wriggled through the tiny tunnel on his stomach, breathing heavily. When he had reached the well, he forced himself onto his knees, a difficult task as his head was now touching the roof of the tunnel. Picking up the hand drill, he held it up to a brick at the bottom of the well. He refused to hold it any higher; another cave-in would be disastrous. He was nervous about using the drill, because of the vibrations it was going to cause, but it was the quickest way, and so he tentatively began drilling a small series of holes in the mortar. Soon enough, the drilling was done, and he took a small hammer and chisel from the floor of the tunnel, and he was able to start chipping away.

After a few more moments, the mortar was almost completely gone, and he put the hammer down and grabbed the brick. It was loose, and he wiggled it out, before removing some more. When had removed a fair few, he leaned forward, looking through the gap and into the well. He saw Louise instantly; she was slightly to his right, almost opposite him. Her head was resting on her right shoulder, and he couldn't see her face.

“Louise?” he called, before reaching for his walkie talkie. “Chief?” he said, “I've broke through; I can see her.”

“ _Great,”_ came Richards' voice. _“Is she alive?”_ he asked quietly, and he held his breath waiting for the answer.

“I'm not sure,” said Douglas, looking at Louise's still form. “Louise? Louise?” She wasn't moving, and Douglas quickly removed another brick. “Louise?! Louise!” he shouted louder and louder, but there was still no response from the little girl. There wasn't enough space for him to reach inside the well, but Douglas took a deep breath, and blew as hard as he could into the gap, before screaming Louise's name. He slammed the drill on the tunnel floor in frustration, when he saw her shift, and he looked closely through the gap. “Louise? Louise, answer me,” he called, and he sighed in relief when her head slowly lifted up from her shoulder. “She's still alive,” he breathed into the walkie talkie.

“ _Okay, good,”_ he could hear the relief in Richards' voice. _“Carry on moving those bricks, and then we can send the paramedics down.”_

“Yes, sir,” Douglas continued his work, talking to Louise all the while. “Louise, sweetie, can you see me?” Upon hearing the voice, Louise sluggishly looked around, her eyes barely open. She couldn't see anyone and her head flopped down onto her chest. “Louise, I'm going to remove these bricks, and then we're gonna come and get you out," he told the girl. Louise did not answer him. "Louise? Louise, can you hear me?" Douglas called and Louise acknowledged him with a tired sounding moan. "Louise, did you understand what I just told you?" Another moan. "Okay, don't worry; we're gonna get you out."

Soon he had removed enough bricks for a grown man to fit his head and shoulders into, but Douglas carried on taking more out, just to be on the safe side.

When he was finished, he reached into the well and gently stroked Louise's head, before pulling himself back into the rescue shaft. With one last assurance to Louise that she was going to get out of the well, Douglas signalled that he was ready to come up.

When he arrived at the surface, he was surrounded; by Richards and Davis, by Cabell, by the paramedics, by the drillers, all of them questioning him, looking excited.

“Is it finished?” came Richards' voice, booming above the rest, “can we send the medics down?”

“It's all done,” Douglas confirmed, and the men surrounding him all grinned at one another.

“Is it big enough for us to reach into?” asked Patrick.

“I was able to reach in and touch her,” Douglas said, reassuring the two paramedics that there was more than enough space.

“How's she doin'?” asked Davis, stepping closer to the specialist and lowering his voice.

“Really weak,” he admitted after a while. “She barely responded to me. I touched her head and she's ice cold.”

“Right,” Davis nodded, breathing in heavily. “Well, she's still alive, so let's keep it that way, and get those men rigged up.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

Once again, Richards approached the Belchers', looking relieved.

“Douglas has taken the bricks out; he can see Louise, and she's still alive,” he said, smiling at them. Bob's legs buckled, and he fell to the ground. His hands were shaking and he covered his face, as his family, Teddy, and Mort crouched down beside him. Linda placed a hand on his shoulder; she was shaking, as well.

Teddy, along with Big Bob, helped him to his feet. “So, the paramedics are just going to go down to make the attempt, and we ask that you make your way over to the ambulance, and your children can wait in the car."

"But I wanna be there when they bring her up," said Linda.

“Yeah, us too,” said Tina.

"I know you do, and I understand you want to see her, but we can't afford to waste any time; we want to get her to the hospital as quick as we can." For a while, Linda just stared at him.

"... Fine," she muttered eventually, as Carol came over to them.

“Right, kids, I'll take you over to the car, while your parents get in the ambulance,” she said. Linda and Bob nodded, and Gene and Tina allowed themselves to be escorted to the police car that was parked in front of the ambulance. The children clambered into the back seat, while Carol sat behind the wheel.

“So, how long will it be?” asked Gene, clicking his seatbelt into place.

“Hopefully, not too long,” said the officer. “The paramedics are getting ready right now.”

“Pop, do you wanna wait in the car with Gene and Tina?” asked Bob, as Teddy and Mort moved away, slightly closer to the well.

“It's okay; I don't wanna impose. I'll watch them bring her up, and then I'll visit her later. The reunion is your thing.”

“What? No, Pop, you wouldn't be imposing,” said Bob, who wasn't really sure what he was hearing.

“Look, I promise I'll come by later in the day when everything's calmed down, alright?”

“Pop -” but Big Bob had joined Teddy and Mort, and Bob turned to his wife. “That was weird. Why doesn't he want to come see Louise?”

“Oh, Bobby; he probably hates hospitals just like you do,” said Linda, looking up at him. “It'll be hard for him to see his youngest grandchild in hospital.” It would be hard enough for them, but nothing would stop them from finally seeing their daughter. “It's alright, Bobby.”

“Yeah, you're probably right,” muttered Bob, as they walked over to the ambulance, but Linda refused to get inside.

“I'll wait here until they bring her up, and then I'll get in,” she was saying.

“Ma'am, we really can't have that,” Richards began, but he was cut off.

“No, I need to see her, I need to see my baby.”

“Ma'am, I understand that,” he began calmly, “but we really can't afford any delays. We don't know what condition she's in, and we'll need to get her in the ambulance right away.” Linda opened her mouth, and then closed it.

“...Okay,” she whispered, climbing into the ambulance, with Bob assisting her, before getting in himself.

* * *

Simon and Patrick were standing next to the rescue shaft, preparing. Patrick was being rigged up for the descent, and Simon was checking over the equipment that they needed to bring; the spinal board, the buckets, the bandages (just in case). Richards and Davis were standing next to them, and they were surrounded by the diggers.

Just before Patrick was to be lowered into the tunnel, Cabell approached him.

"Louise has been trapped for five days. This kid has already beaten the odds, but she cannot survive down there for much longer. This is our only chance," said Davis to the crew. He looked over at the doctor, who stepped forward.

"Don't be afraid of hurting her," he began, "She's running out of time; break her arms and legs if you have to. Just as long as her head, neck and back are okay, the rest can be fixed. Just get her out."

Patrick nodded, his face set, and was lowered into the tunnel.

Olsen Benner turned away from the anxious, fidgety, but excited volunteers, and faced the camera. She waited until Ed had cued her in, before beginning her special live broadcast.

“This is Olsen Benner, reporting to you live from Wharf Park, bringing you an exciting update in the Louise Belcher rescue. Just now, less than five minutes ago, rescuers have broke through to the well where she is trapped, and have made visual contact with her. The underground safety specialist, Douglas, Farrell, has even said that is able to reach through and touch her. The paramedics are currently being rigged up for the rescue attempt, which is believed will take less than an hour, and Louise's family have been taken to wait in the ambulance.

“Douglas has said that Louise is still alive, although she is weak. He mentioned that she hardly responded to him when he spoke to her.”

While Olsen continued to report, the crowd behind the barriers were growing restless, especially the children, who were trying to figure out what was going on. They weren't lucky enough to be given updates; that privilege was for reporters and rescue workers, only. And family, of course.

“It's gonna be real soon,” said Millie, her hands still clasped over her chest. “I can feel it. It's going to happen very soon.”

“I hope you're right,” muttered Regular-sized Rudy, as the Pesto twins alternated peering over and under the barriers next to him. He saw a man wearing a uniform be lowered down into the tunnel, which caught his attention. Usually, the people going into the tunnel were wearing normal clothes, and he couldn't help but wonder if Millie was right, if they were going down underground with the intention of getting Louise out. “Mister!” he called as loud as he could without wheezing, getting the attention of Richards. “Over here!” he waved as the Fire chief approached the small group of children.

“Hey, kids,” he grinned, “it's nice of you to come here and support your friend.”

“How long is it gonna be?” asked Rudy, and the children all began to focus on them. “I just saw a paramedic go down, am I right?”

“You're right,” said Richards. “They've finished taking all the bricks out, and now it's the paramedics turn to do their job.”

“They've gone down to get her out?” asked Zeke, and Richards nodded.

“You got it,” he said, jumping slightly as a high-pitched shriek rang through the park.

“They're going to get her out! They're going to get her out!” Millie sang, jumping on the spot and clapping her hands. Richards smiled at her.

“I'm gonna have to ask you kids to keep behind the barriers, though,” he warned, “we can't have you all running around out there.”

“Will they let us visit her in hospital?” asked Millie desperately.

“I'm sure they will,” said Richards, unsure if she meant the doctors', or Louise's parents. He gave them another reassuring smile before heading back to the rescue tunnel.

“Wow, I can't believe it,” said Rudy quietly. It was happening.

“I know,” said Zeke, slinging his arm onto Jimmy Jr, to hide the fact that he was tearing up. “I can't believe they're finally gonna get her out.”

Many members of the crowd, along with the reporters, had heard Richards' talking to the children, and the excitement and tension began to grow. The reporters quickly went live to their respective channels, and began filling viewers in on what they had missed. Other journalists began spreading out around the area, getting into position, holding up cameras and camcorders, trying to decide which angle would capture the ascension best.

The chattering became louder, the ducking and craning to see became more noticeable and fervent. Soon, onlookers were once again pulling out their phones, holding them up high, and staring at the rescue tunnel, which was surrounded by an extremely large group of dusty, burly, anxious-but-happy looking men. It seemed that every single digger in the park was attempting to crowd around the rescue shaft, trying to see if they could get the first glimpse of Louise.

* * *

Patrick wriggled through the tunnel on his stomach until he had reached the well. Like Douglas before him, he pushed himself onto his knees. The medic was able to force his head and shoulders into the well, and saw Louise with her head on her shoulder, very nearly headbutting her due to the tiny space. He forced an arm into the well and gently shook her shoulder.

“Louise?” he said, as she opened her eyes, and looked up at him, not moving her head. “My name's Patrick, and I'm a paramedic. I'm going to help you; I'm gonna get you out.” She only blinked at him slowly as he began removing the rubble that she was trapped under. A noise from behind him told him that Simon had been lowered down, and was waiting for them in the tunnel.

“Patrick, can you reach her?” he asked, looking in at the medic.

“Yeah, I can reach her,” he said, continuing to work.

“Is she still alive?”

“Yeah,” said Patrick, before turning his attention back to Louise. "Don't worry; we're gonna get you out," Patrick assured her. Louise stared at him, her mouth falling open slightly. Patrick decided to forgo any questions he had and concentrated on his task of freeing the girl.

"What did she say?" came Simon's voice at the end of the tunnel.

"She didn't say anything."

It was slow; he would pick up as many bits of broken bricks as he could handle, and then transfer them to the bucket at his feet, before going back for more. When the bucket was full, Patrick pulled himself out of the well, and slid it down the tunnel to Simon, who in turn took it, and slid another empty bucket back to Patrick. While Simon was gesturing for the full bucket to be brought up and emptied (because they needed the space), Patrick continued freeing Louise, talking to her quietly. “You're doing great, honey,” he told her. “You'll be outta here very soon, and this'll all be over. You've been so brave. Being stuck down here for this long? That's amazing; I bet your parents agree. You'll have to think of a reward for being so brave.” He always talked to his patients, as a way of calming them down, and although Louise was silent, he still spoke to her.

The little girl sat there silently, staring at him through glazed, tired eyes, her head resting on her shoulder because she was too weak to hold it up for too long.

* * *

Bob and Linda were sat silently in the front seat of the ambulance, holding hands tightly. Every so often, Linda would glance out of the back window, through the open doors, waiting for the moment that her daughter would emerge. Bob was staring straight ahead, his fist pressed against his mouth, chewing on his knuckles.

The driver of the ambulance had his hands on the steering wheel, the engine running softly, ready to get going the moment Louise was placed in the ambulance. Every so often, he would glance over at the couple.

Gene and Tina were squashed up together in the back of a police car that would escort the ambulance. The siblings were silent; Gene kept turning around to look out of the back window, not that he could see anything, and tapping a random, nervous tune on his knees; Tina was bouncing her knee unconsciously, hyperventilating quietly. They had been ushered into the car to wait an hour ago, and they were still waiting. They knew that this was Louise's last chance; they had practically run out of time.

Carol was sat behind the wheel, occasionally smiling reassuringly at the children in the rearview mirror.

Teddy, Mort, and Big Bob were standing close together, near the tree surrounded by oxygen tanks. None of them spoke a word. Big Bob had his hand pressed against his mouth, just like his son; Teddy was staring at the rescue tunnel, biting his lip anxiously. Mort was gripping his elbows tightly. Not daring to speak, the three of them kept their eyes focused on the tunnel.

The One-Eyed Snakes had arrived not long ago, and were standing near Teddy, Mort, and Big Bob. The gang were silent, as well, their eyes fixed upon the rescue tunnel. Even Sidecar was quiet and still.

The bystanders were jostling about behind the barriers, standing on tiptoe, muttering to one another, each trying to get a good look at the rescue shaft. The kids were pressed together at the front, waiting nervously. Millie was bouncing on the balls of her feet in anticipation, breathing heavily. Andy and Ollie were kneeling on the floor, as if they would get a better look. Jimmy Jr and Zeke were standing side by side, and every so often, they would mumble something to each other. Even Tammy and Jocelyn had stopped chattering about boys, and were carefully filming on their phone, pausing every so often to take a selfie.

Regular-sized Rudy had his hands on the barriers, leaning over as far as he could. His chest was feeling tight again, and so he pumped his inhaler. He didn't know how much longer he could take this, and he kept his eyes on the cable that was in the tunnel. He knew that when it started moving, that meant that they were bringing Louise up. He pumped his inhaler again and checked his watch. It was a quarter after noon; it had to be any moment now.

The rescue workers were gathered around the tunnel, waiting silently. The hospital gurney had been removed from the ambulance and was resting near the tunnel, waiting for Louise to be placed upon it.

The only thing that could be heard was the steady purr of oxygen that was being fed down the shaft and the well, and the voices of the reporters as they spoke into their respective cameras.

Tim and Charlie were still lying by the well, listening to Louise. Davis and Richards were also standing by the tunnel, their unshaven faces and unkempt clothing showing the strains and efforts of the last five days.

Davis glanced around at all of the personnel surrounding the hole. The reporters kept sneaking closer and closer, trying to get into the best position to capture the moment when Louise came up.

"All right!" he spoke up, causing everyone within earshot to look over at him. "When she comes up, we don't want any delays; I wanna get her in the ambulance as quickly as we can, so," he glanced at the reporters, "if everyone could just step back and give us some room." He gestured for them to move, and a few of the journalists reluctantly shuffled back a few paces.

The rescue workers, however, fanned out, making sure that the path to the ambulance was clear. About twelve of the men remained by the tunnel, along with Dr Cabell, occasionally looking down where, if they squinted, they could make out the tiny, ant-like form of Simon standing at the bottom. They were practically holding their breath in anticipation for the moment when Simon would signal for the cable to be raised.

They could not understand what was taking so long.

* * *

Patrick couldn't help but smile a bit when he freed Louise's arms; she stared up at him with exhausted, pleading eyes, silently begging him to help her. He leaned forward to move some more brick, and then he gently hooked one arm under her legs, and carefully brought her out of the well. She was free.

Patrick held the little girl, hurriedly assessing her condition in the dim light. Louise's grey face was caked in dust and dirt, and bruises, and was tear-streaked. Her bare arms were swollen and almost completely black, decorated with scrapes, and with only a little bit of their usual colour remaining on her upper arms. Her elbows were scraped raw, her pigtails were on end, and her precious bunny ears were dirty, as well. Her dress was damp and filthy. Her swollen legs were completely black also, and her left foot hung oddly.

Louise let out a deep breath, and her cold body suddenly went limp, her head flopping back over Patrick's arm, and her eyes closing. "Louise? Louise?!" The girl did not answer, or even move, causing Patrick's heartbeat to quicken with fear. The paramedic tried to remain calm as he struggled to raise his arm and pressed his fingers against Louise's neck, urgently feeling about, as she laid in his arm, silent, cold and unmoving. A few agonisingly slow seconds passed before he could feel a pulse and he sighed in relief.

"What? What is it?!" came Simon's worried voice at the foot of the tunnel.

"Nothing!" he called as Louise's eyes opened again. "She just flopped down on me; she's okay. Send in the backboard," and the board was inserted into the tunnel.

For a split second, Patrick had thought Louise had died and it was quite possibly the worst he had ever felt in his life; he would have spent the rest of his life feeling so guilty that he wasn't able to save the girl. He'd managed to relax slightly when Louise opened her eyes again; it was all probably too much for her to handle, Patrick thought, but his heart was still racing; he had been terrified thinking that Louise had died. He had been a paramedic for 8 years, and he had never lost a patient before, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Patrick carefully placed her onto the board; he knew immediately from the way her left foot dangled that it was broken, so he took great care in pushing her out into the shaft. "Watch that left foot; it's broken," he warned Simon, as the medic pulled Louise out. Simon was able to hold Louise, keeping her in a more or less horizontal position until Patrick was able to squirm back out of the tunnel.

Together, the two paramedics began to strap the child to the spinal board, a tricky feat in the cramped space. Patrick placed a plastic neck brace with a foam lining around the girl's neck, as a precaution, and Louise stared blankly ahead, looking barely conscious, as Patrick strapped her forehead to the board As they were working in such cramped conditions, they found it extremely difficult to use a full body board. Louise's arms were placed by her side and tied down above her elbows, rendering her immobile, and she remained silent as the two men continued to work. They had nothing to splint her leg with, but they didn't want to waste any time with that; they just needed to get her in the ambulance. "Louise, I'm going to strap your legs to the board, okay? It will hurt a little bit," Patrick told her before carefully grabbing the girl's left leg. Louise, clearly exhausted, only blinked tiredly as Patrick strapped her ankles down.

Simon unhooked another cable attached to his belt and connected it to the top of the spinal board, as an extra safety precaution, and tugged on the cable that would take them above ground, to freedom, after muttering, “sir, we got her,” into his radio.

During the ascent, Louise still remained silent, and looked blankly ahead as they rose toward the bright sky which was gradually growing larger. If she had looked up, she would have seen faces peering over the edge. Weak though she was, she was very vaguely aware of what was happening; she knew that she had been freed from her prison and she remembered her family, along with some other voices she didn't recognise, calling down to her, comforting her, telling her that they were going to get her out of the well. But that was all she knew. Louise was finding it difficult to concentrate; in addition to feeling weak, she also felt rather dizzy, lethargic and extremely tired. There was nothing that sounded more appealing to her at that moment than sleep, apart from eating or drinking something.

Simon was holding Louise with both arms as he could not hold the girl with only one hand, in a best upright position as he could manage.

She could hear Simon talking to her, telling her that she was going to go straight to the hospital, and that her family were going to be there, but nothing he was saying seemed to make sense. Louise felt too exhausted to talk, so she simply stared ahead, her brow furrowed, her bleary eyes barely open.

When they finally reached the surface, the cameras started flashing and Louise and Simon were instantly surrounded; doctors, volunteers, rescue workers, reporters; everybody wanted to see how she looked.

As soon as they had reached the surface, the silence that had been hanging over the crowd like a storm cloud was broken by the sound of someone clapping. A few seconds later, someone else joined in, followed by more people. Then the cheering began; the waiting, the anxiety, the feelings of helplessness and not knowing, all culminated into a display of pure jubilation, and soon people were whooping with joy and clapping co-workers on their backs.

Louise was too weak to look around at all of the people that were crowding around her, smiling widely and still cheering; she could barely keep her eyes open. She could hear, though; she could hear clapping, cheering, whistling, lots of different voices all mingling together until they sounded alike. She did not know what was happening; the idea of concentrating long enough to figure out the source of this noise was incomprehensible. The cameras were still flashing and she closed her eyes; after five days underground, Louise had almost forgotten how bright the light could be.

At the sound of cheering, Bob and Linda had simultaneously turned around and looked through the open back doors of the ambulance; there was a cheering crowd, repeated flashes from the cameras, and there in the middle, a dirty, bruised figure; Louise was out.

"Oh, my God, they got her!" Linda shrieked, grabbing Bob's hand tightly.

"They got her? She's out?! She's out!" Bob shouted jubilantly, tears of joy streaming down his face as he encased his sobbing wife in a hug, both of them laughing and crying with happiness.

Gene and Tina had turned around at the sound of cheering, but it was Gene who saw their baby sister first. He had rolled down the window and stuck his head out, managing to catch a glimpse of Louise.

"They got her! She's there, I can see her!" Gene leapt onto his knees as Tina leapt onto him, hugging him tightly. All the agony and tension of the waiting, never knowing, was released and Tina started crying in relief, burying her face in her hands.

Teddy, Mort, and Big Bob were cheering loudly, the three of them hugging tightly. Big Bob looked over at his granddaughter, wiping a tear.

The kids' were celebrating as well; as was the rest of the crowd. Andy and Ollie were holding hands and jumping up and down; Zeke had leapt onto Jimmy Jr's back and was whooping with delight. Regular-sized Rudy was sobbing, tears of delight streaming down his face as he punched the air. Millie kept leaping into the air, trying to spot Louise, screeching with happiness, her face bright red and wet with happy tears. Even Tammy and Jocelyn had stopped taking selfies, and were staring at the sight before them, though they were careful to keep filming.

Cabell peered closely into Louise's face as she was laid on her back once more, quickly inspecting her. He tried to close in around Louise, to give her some space from the reporters, who were not about to let this moment go. The photographers got as close as they could get, aiming their cameras straight at Louise's face as the more overzealous ones barged through the police and volunteers, their cameras and camcorders held high, doing their best to capture every moment.

Simon placed Louise on the nearby bed and quickly covered her with a thick blanket, but as they turned to make their way to the ambulance, they found the path blocked by journalists. All they could see were the bright flashes of the camera, and all they could hear was voices of concerned reporters over the cheering.

Luckily, the media were quickly moved aside, and Simon, closely followed by Cabell, began to take Louise over to the ambulance.

The cheering, the applause, the reporters following them with cameras and camcorders did not let up, and Louise closed her eyes, unable to comprehend what was happening.

At the doors to the ambulance, Louise was placed inside the vehicle, Dr Cabell and Simon climbing in behind her. As the doors slammed shut and the vehicle set off, the siren blaring, they immediately began tending to her. One of them looked up and saw Linda and Bob peering through the window and he gave them a reassuring smile.

To say the parents were overjoyed would be an understatement; they could not find words to express just how happy and relieved they were that their daughter had been rescued. They could see her; strapped to a spinal board, unmoving, and covered in dirt, but she was alive.

The drive to the hospital seemed to Linda to take a lifetime; she kept looking in the back window to check on Louise as the ambulance tore through the streets.

When they arrived at the hospital a very short time later, Bob and Linda jumped out of the vehicle and made their way around to the back of the ambulance where the doctors were pulling Louise's bed out.

As it was placed on the ground, Linda and Bob were joined by Gene and Tina, and they followed the doctors as they wheeled the bed inside.

Louise was wheeled through the lobby, past the front desk where two nurses were stationed, and down a long hallway.

The doctors talked urgently amongst themselves as they pushed the bed hurriedly through the hall; the family was unable to hear them over the hustle and bustle that accompanied any hospital.

Linda managed to match the doctor's pace and she overtook them slightly and ended up walking beside Louise. She was still strapped to the spinal board, her bruised face still covered in dirt, an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. She was staring at the ceiling above her through her half-open eyes with a confused, fatigued look on her face, and Linda reached out and managed to grab her arm through the blanket. Unable to move her head, Louise glanced over and saw her mother, and although her facial expression did not change, a glint of recognition glimmered in her tired eyes.

Just then, Linda was brushed aside as Louise was taken into the emergency room.

"Wait, I want to go in there!" she demanded, walking toward the door, but a doctor stepped in front of it, blocking her from entering.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Belcher, but you and your family will have to wait; Louise needs a complete medical examination."

"But I should be in there with her; I'm her mother!"

"Mrs Belcher, your daughter has been through a traumatic ordeal and it's vital that we keep her calm. You and your family are going to have to wait."

"What do you mean, keep her calm? Why do you need to keep her calm? What are you going to be doing to her?"

"Please, Mrs Belcher, we want to help your daughter."

"... Well, how long until we can see her?" she asked.

"It's hard to say, ma'am; we need to assess her injuries. We'll let you know when you can see her. I'll have someone escort you to a private room, so you won't be bothered," and with that, the doctor turned and made his way into the room. Linda remained right outside the door, trying to look in, until another doctor led her and her family down another hallway, this one much shorter, and into a private waiting room. It was a very comfortable room; with squashy armchairs and sofas, a coffee table bearing up-to-date magazines, an illuminated fish tank mounted on a pedestal against one wall, another small table with a vase of flowers, and a television mounted in one of the top corners of the room. The clock on the wall read 12:29.

"You can wait in here," the doctor smiled at them. "The reporters won't bother you this way." She smiled again before closing the door, leaving them in silence.

Linda paced for a few moments before turning and sitting down with the rest of her family. She suddenly felt very drained.

"How did she look?" asked Gene.

"Okay," she said honestly. "Dirty, and a few scrapes, but she looked fine to me."

"Let's hope she is," said Bob, placing his arm around his wife's shoulders. He looked tired as well, as did the rest of them.

For a while, the four of them just sat there in silence; there wasn't really much to say. Louise was out of the well, and soon they would be able to see her. That was all that mattered.

The television was on, and the broadcaster was reviewing the daily news stories. Tina glanced up at it and saw the picture of Louise that had, unbeknownst to them, been gracing newspapers, social media, and television screens for the past week.

"Hey, look," she grabbed the nearby remote and turned up the volume. A young woman was talking into the camera, seated behind her desk in a news studio.

_"Recapping our top story; a nine-year-old girl's five day ordeal is finally over. Louise Belcher, who was pushed into an abandoned well Friday evening, was finally rescued at around twenty-five minutes past twelve to the sounds of cheers of the rescue workers who worked tirelessly to free her. We are hoping that some of the workers are going to talk to us soon, and our reporter Olsen Benner is live at the scene. Olsen?"_

The image then cut to Wharf Park, which looked no different than it had done all week, were it not for the fact that the volunteers were still grinning widely. Olsen Benner was standing a few feet away from the chaos that still surrounded the rescue shaft.

 _"Thank you, Valerie. Yes, they, uh, they brought Louise up about five minutes ago now, and, uh, there's still a lot of smiles on people's faces. I don't know how much you saw, Valerie, from your point of view, but we could see her; she was awake, strapped to a spinal board. But, uh, everyone was cheering and clapping; it was just amazing to see."_ Olsen glanced over to where the rescue workers were. _"They said they would talk to us after she was out, so it's just a matter of time. Valerie, the ride to the hospital is only twenty minutes away; I'm sure Louise and her family are there now; we have reporters over there, hoping to get an update on her condition soon._

_"For those of you who are just tuning in, Louise Belcher, the nine-year-old girl who was stuck eighty feet below ground in a narrow well, has been rescued. She was brought up about five minutes ago and was taken straight to the hospital. She'd been trapped in the well for five days buried in rubble and with only minimal water, so the fact that she survived is nothing short of amazing. I do think that after all this time, she's probably feeling quite dehydrated, but we'll have to wait until the hospital gives us an update._

_"While we're waiting to talk to some of the rescuers, let's take a look at the tape, at the actual rescue,"_ the image changed once again, this time to a crowd of workers surrounding the rescue hole. The Belcher family watched silently. _"You can see the relief on their faces as Louise comes up."_ Linda gasped as the cable came up and she saw Louise emerge from the hole in the arms of a paramedic, watching as the camera tried to move around all of the people surrounding her so that she could be seen, finally settling on a spot a few feet behind Simon and zooming in so that Louise could clearly be seen. It seemed completely different watching it on television. Cheering could be heard emitting from the screen, but Louise remained silent, her brow, barely visible under the straps, furrowed slightly. She could be seen blinking and staring blankly ahead through tired eyes, unaware of all the grinning people surrounding her.

 _"You can see she's strapped to a spinal board; her eyes are open. Looks like a few bruises on her face, there, but as you can see, she is alive. Uh,"_ Olsen chuckled in spite of herself, _"she doesn't seem to care much for the camera flashing. The reason she is strapped to the board is to, uh, not worsen any hidden injuries she might have; they probably want to keep her as still as possible until they can properly assess her, but, as you can see, Valerie, they're taking her over to the ambulance, and, uh, the kid just looks exhausted,"_ Olsen was making her way closer to the rescue shaft and noticed that the workers appeared ready to talk, so she stepped forward.

 _"Ah, Valerie, it appears they're ready to talk to us. Uh, we have police chief Jack Davis here. Sir, could you tell us anything about how they got her out?"_ Olsen placed her microphone into Davis's face.

 _"I've just been talking to one of the paramedics who brought her out,"_ said Davis. _"They got her out with no scratches, and they had to remove the rubble on her to get her out."_

_"Who brought her out?"_

_"EMT Patrick Baker pulled her out of the well, and Simon Landon brought her up."_

_"Did Louise say anything when they brought her up?"_

_"No, she didn't say a word."_

_"Tell us, if you can, how you felt, and how everyone else felt, when they brought her up."_

_"Well, I can't speak for everyone, but I've been here since day one; I've listened to her cry, and her family talking to her, and when they brought her up, I got teary-eyed, I'll admit it. I'm just so relieved it's over."_

_"I think everybody here feels the same way. Were her parents in the ambulance with her?"_

_"Yes, they rode there in the ambulance with her, and their other children were in a police car, and they went to the hospital, as well."_

_"Can you guess as to what her condition might be? Does she have any broken bones? I heard something about one of her legs..."_

_"I heard something about a broken foot; I'm not sure if it's true. But, I, uh, I do think she's suffering from some dehydration. We're gonna have to wait for the hospital update."_

_"Okay, thank you,"_ as Davis walked away, Olsen turned back to the camera. _"Well, Police Chief Jack Davis has just given us a quick update; he can't tell us too much, but now we know that Louise is probably already at the hospital, possibly with a broken foot; her family is there, we have reporters there, and there will be a conference there at some point. We'll try to get you the latest information."_

 _"Thank you, Olsen,"_ Valerie was grinning now as well. _"That's twice I've seen that clip of Louise now; it just gets me. An amazing girl. What a wonderful ending to this dramatic story. Keep tuning in regularly for more updates. Thank you for joining me, I'm Valerie Hope."_

As the other news stories began to play, Tina turned the volume back down.

"Wow..." muttered Gene.

"Does Louise have a broken foot?" asked Tina.

"We don't know yet," Bob told her. "The doctors have to check her over."

"How long until we can see her?"

"I don't know," repeated Bob.

* * *

The Belcher family waited, waited and then waited some more. Linda had tried to enter the emergency room multiple times, but she was always escorted back to the waiting room by a nearby doctor.

"She keeps doin' that, and they're gonna lock us in," Gene leaned over and whispered to Tina, who actually managed to smile.

"I'm sure she's fine," said Linda, returning to her seat once more. "I mean, why wouldn't she be? They should be finished with her by now, shouldn't they?"

"Well, it's hard to say," said Bob. "Don't they think she has a broken foot?" He looked back up at the television, where the muted news was still playing. Every so often, the report would come back to Louise, and Tina would turn up the volume; they were currently watching a replay of an earlier report that had broadcast live for twenty minutes until Louise had been brought up from the well.

 _"... down the well,"_ the voice of amateur reporter Olsen Benner narrated over shots of the rescue workers crowded around the shaft. _"Hopefully, this ordeal will be coming to an end very soon. As we know, the paramedics have gone down the tunnel in hopes of bringing the little girl up. Everybody is just hoping that this is going to be over soon, and, uh, the rescue workers are literally holding their breath in anticipation. As we know, Louise has been down there for five days now, so this is the time, everyone's hoping that she's going to be okay._

_"Just to recap, Louise Belcher is the nine-year-old girl who was pushed into an abandoned well on Friday evening, uh, she fell to the bottom and has remained eighty feet underground and ever since then, rescue workers have been continuously drilling in an effort to reach her. She was pushed in by a teenage boy, and when she landed at the bottom, there was a cave-in, leaving Louise buried up to her chest in rubble, which complicated rescue proceedings._

_Police dropped a microphone down there so they would be able to hear her, and since she was too far down to reach, they decided to dig. Now, uh, they thought that this process would only take a couple of hours, but solid rock, known as basalt, slowed the operation. I showed up not long after the first officers on the scene did, and we were all told 'the next few hours,' over and over again, and of course, those next few hours have turned into almost a week. And, of course, her family have been keeping a vigil by the well; especially the father, who at times let his grief overcome him. Now, from what I hear, Louise's siblings are sat in the police car, which will escort the ambulance to the hospital, which is a good sign; we're hoping that it means that Louise will be out sooner rather than later._

_"Now, uh, as far as I'm aware, some of the police officers have removed the headphones from the speaker next to the well. The headphones, in case you didn't know, were used to listen to Louise, because once the drilling started, it was almost impossible to hear her. But now the drilling has stopped, and they have turned up the volume on the speaker so that if we listen closely, we might be able to hear her."_ Olsen's voice paused for a few moments, but nothing could be heard except for the rumbling of the generators, and the murmurs of the volunteers.

_"We can't hear anything right now; there's no sounds coming from the well. It really does make you wonder exactly what is going on down there. I, uh, know that the doctor here told the paramedics to get Louise out, no matter what, even at the expense of a few broken bones; of course, the doctor did say that as long as Louise's neck, back and head are okay, then everything else can be dealt with. We hope it doesn't have to come to that, we, uh, hope that they can get Louise out pretty easy, but, uh, it may not be that simple._

_The really amazing thing is Louise has had no food and little water since she fell in the well; now for someone to survive five days with little water is remarkable. I know the two paramedics in the tunnel will not be giving her anything, as she may need surgery when she gets out. She will be taken straight to the hospital; if she needs surgery, it's better for her stomach to be empty. We, uh, we don't know what kind of injuries she has; we know she told the officers that her foot and back hurt, but, uh, she wasn't able to say anything more.”_

Olsen had been instructed by her bosses to keep talking until Louise actually came up, and so that was what she did. _"On Friday night, they started digging a parallel rescue shaft with a backhoe, but they stopped because the vibrations from the machine might have caused another cave-in. First, a school friend offered to be lowered down the well, but he was unable to be upside down for so long, so rescuers began to dig. And they brought in what's called a rotary drilling rig, and they used that to start digging the tunnel. Workers were unprepared for the steely rock, and as a result, it took them more than twenty-four hours to dig the tunnel. Shortly after this, they issued a nationwide broadcast, asking for experienced drillers to come and help._

_"Valerie, the outpouring of help and support was remarkable; what we needed, we got. That first night, when they were worried about the temperature of the well, a local company sends over tanks of warm air, free of charge; it seemed everyone and his brother had some different idea on how to get Louise out, and they all came down to this small community in hopes of helping in some small way. Of course, most of these people have kids, and I guess this is every parent's worst nightmare._

_"Oh,"_ Olsen's voice perked up. _"They appear to be crowding around the rescue shaft; this could be it. They're holding onto the cable, and they're looking down into the hole. One of the workers is signalling to raise the cable, and they're starting to pull it up. Right, there's definitely a lot of movement going on around the tunnel, a lot of excitement; I think this is it; let's listen."_ and thus the clip of Louise being brought up was shown again.

Tina was sat next to her parents on one of the two sofas in the room, unconsciously bouncing her knee again, her eyes glued on the screen in the corner. Bob and Linda were holding hands tightly. Linda was staring at the wall straight ahead, alternating between looking up at the clock and the television every so often. Bob was tapping his feet on the floor, chewing on the knuckles of his free hand.

Gene, too, grew bored with the waiting and had moved to the floor in front of the coffee table. He stacked the magazines in front of him up into a slipshod castle, before knocking them over. Gathering them up, he repeated the process until it became robotic. He felt as if he needed to do something; his hands were itching to move about.

"What is taking so long?!" he snapped suddenly, throwing the magazines to the floor. "We've been waiting for hours!"

"We just have to be patient, son," said Bob. "I know you're anxious to see Louise; we all are, but all we can do is wait."

"But we've waiting for hours!" he repeated frustratedly.

"I know," said Bob patiently and he looked over at his wife for support. He saw that she looked anxious as well and was biting her thumbnail. "Honey?"

"Gene's right," she began. "They should be done with her by now!"

"They'll come and get us when they're done," said Bob. "It won't be too much longer."

Not long after, the door opened and a smiley nurse entered. The clock now read 16:45.

"You can come and see her now," she said kindly. The family were on their feet before she had even opened her mouth, and they followed her out of the room and down the hallway, past the emergency room where Louise had been taken, and down another hallway into the intensive care unit.

Bob, feeling rather sick now, slowed down when he saw where they were going; if Louise was in such bad shape to warrant being in the intensive care unit, then he wasn't sure he would be able to handle what he would see. He had never been too good in hospitals, and he felt even worse when it concerned his own family.

"Hey," came a quiet voice; Bob looked up and saw Linda. "Come on," was all she said, stepping aside and waiting. After a moment's hesitation, Bob followed his wife down the hallway, where they all had to wash their hands before entering the double doors to the unit.

Moments later, they stopped outside a private room.

"Louise's condition is quite -" began the nurse, but Linda cut her off.

"We'll discuss that later; I want to see my daughter," she sidestepped the nurse, opened the door and entered the room.

The room would look like a typical hospital room were it not filled with state-of-the-art equipment; most of the monitors and machines were surrounding the bed, lying in which was Louise, sleeping soundly.

"Louise!" Linda gasped, rushing over to her child and hugging her tightly. She had been cleaned up and now the only marks visible on her grey face were some bruises. Patches of dressing were taped over both her elbows. She already looked very different to the rescue videos they had seen of her.

Bob could see the outline of what appeared to be a cast under the blanket, confirming that Louise did indeed have a broken foot. Her blackened arms were elevated, and there were IVs in both of them. There was a catheter inserted into the right side of her neck, covered by a small patch of dressing and connected to two more tubes, which were hooked up to a machine next to her bed, which was covered in wires, pumps and dials.Electrodes attached to a heart monitor, which was beeping steadily, were stuck on her chest.

She didn't look as bad as Bob was expecting, which made it much easier to deal with. Perhaps the most shocking thing to see was that Louise was not wearing her bunny ears. Her hair was brushed and washed and no longer in pigtails, and it curled up naturally just like Linda's.

Linda stepped back slightly as the rest of the family crowded around Louise. Bob felt like crying again; it was finally over. Louise was out of the well, she was alive, and they were all together again.

"I'm so glad she's okay!" Linda said, unable to stop a tear from falling down her cheek as she tenderly kissed her on the forehead. Bob was holding Louise's cold, blackened hand tightly, the palm scraped raw. He was doing his best to avoid looking at the tubes, while Gene was staring at them in fascination. There were so many, at least four in each arm.

"What are these tubes for?" he asked no-one in particular.

"They're to help your sister regain her health," said one of the two nurses who were bustling about the room, along with Dr Cabell. Gene stared at them.

"Isn't that your job?" he asked, and the nurse looked taken aback for a moment.

"Well, yes, but the tubes will help," she smiled before carrying on with her duties.

“But what are they for? What are they doing?”

“Well, these ones are giving her liquids, this one is giving her a little bit of pain relief, and these ones are antibiotics.”

Linda was sat on Louise's right side. She stroked the side of her daughter's face, not wanting to let her go.

"Tell us - is she going to be okay?" Bob asked, turning to the nurse, Robin.

"As of now, her condition is serious but stable," she began professionally. "She has a broken ankle, and a fractured coccyx; she also has hypothermia, several grade three pressure wounds on her back; the wounds became infected, and she has contracted septicaemia. When she arrived, her kidneys were shutting down, so she's been put on dialysis. If the dialysis treatments are unsuccessful, Louise will possibly have to have a kidney transplant. She is also severely dehydrated and she's a bit malnourished, so we are feeding her intravenously; her muscles have been breaking down, due to non-use, so we are giving her treatment for that. She's a bit anaemic, and we're treating her for that. She also has scrapes and bruises here and there, but nothing severe and she won't need any stitches. We also weighed her, and comparing her latest doctor's visit, she's dropped from 58 pounds down to 51."

Bob stared at the nurse, not able to believe what he was hearing. Suddenly, Louise seemed to look in worse shape than she had all night.

"Is she going to be okay?" asked Linda.

"She should make a full recovery; however we may need to amputate some parts of her arms and legs because they could become gangrenous. We -” Robin was cut off by Linda.

“Gangrenous? What do you mean?” She lifted Louise's blanket and looked down at her bare legs. Her left foot was in a splint. Her feet and ankles were swollen due to water retention, and her elevated legs were completely black. She was too shocked to say anything; Gene and Tina were staring at the limbs, open-mouthed, causing Bob to rush over and take a look. Bob felt sickened when he saw the sight of the damaged limbs. It was bad enough seeing her arms like that.

“Oh, my God,” Bob muttered, unable to tear his eyes away.

“How did this happen?” asked Linda, regaining her voice, and placing the blanket back.

“Due to being under the rubble, the blood flow to her limbs was restricted,” said Robin. “We -”

“Just amputate,” said Bob, who looked very white.

“We might not need to,” Robin told him. “We have already placed Louise in a hyperbaric oxygen chamber to help with the blood flow; if the treatments are successful, we will not need to amputate. Tomorrow, Louise will be taken to surgery to remove dead tissue from her arms and legs."

“Wait, septicaemia? Did you say septicaemia? Isn't that really dangerous?” asked Bob desperately. Robin opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by Gene.

“What's septicaemia?”

“It's technically known as blood poisoning, and it's what happens when wounds become infected; she's being given antibiotics, and intravenous fluids, and it won't be life-threatening,” she assured them.

“How did she get that?” asked Linda.

“It's the wounds on her back; her dress has several large tears in it, and we believe that the wounds became exposed to the bacteria in the well.”

"You said she's dehydrated? Well, has she had anything to drink?" asked Tina worriedly, trying to shift the conversation.

"She has had some oral rehydrating solutions; we didn't want to make her ill by giving her large amounts of fluids, and we are rehydrating her with the IV solutions."

“Wait, I don't understand how she can be dehydrated. You gave her water,” said Bob.

“She still lost fluids.”

“How?”

“Through tears, urination, things like that. Her body trying to fight off hypothermia might have been a factor, as well.”

"Wait, you said she had hypothermia?” Linda, trying to take everything in, turned to Cabell, who nodded. “But how? I thought you were giving her warm air!”

“We were,” said Cabell. “Louise became unable to sustain her body temperature over time.”

“Why is her face grey?” asked Bob, only noticing the odd colour for the first time, and Cabell hesitated slightly.

“Because she was in there for so long,” he began quietly, so the kids' wouldn't hear him, “her body began to shut down unnecessary blood vessels in order to keep her heart pumping. The vessels to her face, arms and legs were shut down, causing us to give her a blood transfusion, and she'll more than likely need another one.”

“... When can she come home? Can we take her home tomorrow?" asked Linda, trying to put that last statement out of her mind. This was all becoming too much for her; she just wanted to take Louise home where she could care for her.

"I'm afraid not, Mrs Belcher. Louise will need to remain here for several weeks; she will need several operations and hyperbaric treatments, and she needs to regain her strength."

“She's got a long recovery ahead of her,” Cabell told them. “Aside from the physical stuff, Louise is going to have to be seen by a psychologist.”

“What? Why?” asked Bob.

“Her age, what she went through, the amount of time she was in there, plus her injuries – it's bound to cause some emotional trauma. So, when she's a little bit better, someone will evaluate her, just to make sure she's dealing with everything okay.”

“Oh, okay. Where are her ears?” asked Bob, finding it weird seeing Louise without them.

“Ears – oh, her hat?” Robin confirmed, and Bob nodded. “All of her clothing is currently being washed, and it will be returned to her. They will try and mend her dress.”

“Okay, could you wash the ears really quickly? Louise won't be seen without them.” It didn't seem like a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but if Louise woke up without her ears on, after everything that had happened, it would probably push her over the edge.

“I don't see a problem with that,” said Robin.

“It sounds weird, but it's important; the hat is very special to her,” said Bob, and Robin nodded. She had seen Louise's bare head and understood why she wanted it covered. Bob hadn't seen her without her ears since she was four years old, when the accident happened.

Just then, the other nurse, Lucy, approached Robin and muttered into her ear.

"Ah, yes," said Robin. "The press are waiting for an update on Louise's condition; would you like to speak to them, or would you rather stay here?"

"We'll stay here," said Linda, not wanting to leave her daughter's side.

"Okay, then," Robin nodded. "There will be a few other doctors who have worked on Louise tonight with me; I'm going to tell the media what I've told you, is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine," said Bob, and Robin and Cabell left the room. Lucy bustled about here and there, occasionally checking Louise's vital signs, and the Belchers' began to relax slightly.

"How long do you think this dehydration will last?" asked Tina. They spoke in hushed voices for Louise was still asleep.

"Hopefully, it shouldn't be too long," Bob said, taking Louise's hand again. "She's still being treated."

"Will Louise have to have her arms and legs cut off?" asked Gene.

"She might not," said Bob, "they said they might not need to."

"And even if she does, it's a small price to pay for her being alive," Linda had not moved from Louise's side; given the chance, she would gladly spend the night there.

* * *

Meanwhile, Robin and the doctors who had examined Louise, including Dr Cabell, Dr Rhode, a surgeon, and Dr Thompson, a paediatrician, were gathered in the conference room of the hospital. The other doctors, including the anaesthetist, and his assistant, the radiographer, the scribe, the emergency department physician, the trauma team leader, and the orthopaedic surgeon, had resumed their duties and were tending to other patients.

They were standing behind a small podium and microphones had been placed on the table in small stands and reporters were crowding in the room, armed with cameras and camcorders. One by one, the doctors introduced themselves, and then the barrage of questions began, and the first question was about Louise's condition.

"Louise is in serious condition, but she is stable," Robin began.

"What sort of injuries does she have?" asked a rather scrawny-looking reporter, who had wormed his way to the front, pen and paper in his hand.

"Louise has a broken left ankle," Cabell began, "and a fractured coccyx. She has several grade three pressure sores on her back, and could develop circulatory problems in her arms and legs. The pressure wounds have become infected and Louise has septicaemia. She is suffering from exhaustion, and moderate hypothermia. She is also severely dehydrated and has been put on emergency dialysis as her kidneys were shutting down."

“Circulatory problem – is there a chance of amputation?” called an unknown voice from the back.

“There is a chance; however, we won't know for several days, and we hope to avoid it, if possible,” said Cabell.

"Have her family seen her yet?" one of the reporters who had been at the park, called out.

"Yes," revealed Robin.

"How is Louise doing now?"

"She's doing fine; right now, she's sleeping," Robin told him.

"What was the examination procedure?"

"We gave her the same examination procedure as everyone else; we checked her airways, and her breathing, and then we started a rehydrating IV; we took blood, and she had extensive X-rays and CT scans," revealed Dr Thompson. “She was also placed in a hyperbaric oxygen chambers to help improve the blood flow to her arms and legs.”

"How was she during the examination?"

"Lethargic and unresponsive, but conscious. She fell asleep during the examination, near the end," answered Thompson.

"How was she able to survive for that long?"

"We don't know yet; we will talk to Louise when she is a little less drowsy; hopefully she'll be able to tell us," said Dr Rhode.

"How long is she going to remain hospitalised?"

"We can't say for certain," Robin told the press.

"What next?" came the final question of the evening.

"Right now, it's a matter of rehydrating her, restoring the function of her kidneys and observing the patches of skin that suffered from lack of blood circulation."

That concluded the press conference, and the doctors made their way back to the critical care unit and Robin and Dr Cabell returned to Louise's room. Robin really thought that they had handled the conference rather well; it was a new experience for them and she thought that it had gone very smoothly. The girl was still sleeping, and her family remained by her side.

As it was the intensive care unit, the visiting hours were open 24/7. It meant that the Belchers' could stay with Louise; Bob doubted that Linda would leave even if she were ordered to. He wouldn't, either.

Tina was dozing in her chair and Gene was practically sleeping on his feet. It was 5:15 in the afternoon, but they were all exhausted. Only Bob and Linda looked remotely awake.

"We should get the kids to bed," muttered Bob, leaning forward and Linda nodded. They both stood; Bob placed his hand on Tina's shoulder and gestured for Gene to follow them. They made their way back to the private waiting room; Linda sat Gene on the sofa, and Tina took the other one. "We'll sleep here for a while," he told Gene and the barely awake Tina. Looking around, he noticed that Linda had left, so he covered Gene and Tina with blankets that a nurse had kindly left for them, and then left the kids' and returned to Louise's room. Linda was again sat at Louise's beside, this time on her left, so that she could hold Louise's cold hand. "Lin, don't you wanna get some sleep?" he asked quietly, sitting down beside her.

"I don't wanna leave her," she said, gripping her daughter's hand tightly."I'm just so glad she's safe."

"Me, too," said Bob, placing his arm around Linda's shoulders. For a while, they both stared at their sleeping daughter. Then Bob spoke. "Linda... her kidneys were shutting down," he said as if he was just understanding what the words meant. "Lin, she was -"

"Don't say it," she cut him off. "Don't. Louise is out of the well, she's alive and she's going to be fine." But Bob couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Excuse me," he said to the nurse who had come over to check Louise's vital signs. "But you mentioned that her kidneys were shutting down, right?"

"That's right," Robin nodded sympathetically. "She should be fine, though," she added.

"Tell me," Bob implored, ignoring the look he could feel Linda giving him through the back of his head. "Would she have lasted much longer down there?" The nurse hesitated.

"She wouldn't have, sir," she said and the colour drained from Bob's face. "We can ascertain that she would not have survived another day in the well."

When she had moved away, Bob and Linda looked at each other in shock, before looking down at Louise. Only then did they realise how close they had come to losing her, and Bob started crying.

"Bobby, it's okay," Linda whispered, pulling her sobbing husband into a hug. "Look, Louise is fine, they got her out, didn't they?"

"Just in time, Lin!" he whispered frantically. "Just in time! They could have very easily not got her out today, and then what would have happened?"

"You mustn't think like that. Louise is here with us now, and she's going to be okay."

"She's got to be," said Bob, and Linda nodded, when in truth she was thinking the same as Bob; that Louise could have died down in the well. If she hadn't have been pulled out when she was, then her body would have been brought up the following day.

Linda tried to not think such things; there was no need now that Louise had been freed. Okay, there was the risk of amputation, but she still thought that that was a small price to pay. Louise was getting treatment for her kidneys, her injuries, her dehydration, so there wasn't really much more that Linda could ask for; although if she was going to go down that route, she could ask to go back in time and prevent Louise from falling into the well in the first place.

Eventually, the Belcher parents fell asleep in their chairs at Louise's bedside. Gene and Tina remained dormant in the waiting room, and Louise remained comatose in her bed. It was the first proper sleep any of them had gotten in five days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's out! Yay!  
> The next few chapters will document her progress in hospital.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys. I know this was supposed to be uploaded on the 26th, but I'm super busy tomorrow, Friday, and Saturday, so I thought I'd upload it a little early for you.

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 7

Bob was awakened at around 6pm that evening by Robin gently shaking his shoulder.

"Excuse me, Mr Belcher?" she whispered. "We need to take Louise for her hyperbaric treatment now, so if you could please step aside..."

"Sure," Bob also whispered, scooting back in his chair and stretching out his stiff legs. Not wanting to wake his wife, he gently pulled the chair she was sleeping in out of the way.

The IV's were temporarily removed from Louise's arms, the marks covered with band-aids, and the sleeping girl was gently placed on a gurney before being wheeled out of the room. Bob had intended to go with Louise, but before he could properly think about it, he had fallen back asleep, truly exhausted.

Louise was wheeled down the sterile hallways, still dormant, and only awoke when she was placed on the table that would put her inside the monoplace oxygen chamber, which resembled a giant, clear glass tube.

"It's all right, Louise," Robin smiled down at her, noticing she was looking around confusedly. Doctors were strolling around in their white coats, observing the two oxygen chambers, one of which already had a man inside. "We're just going to put you inside this oxygen chamber here, and it'll help you get well again. You may feel a little pressure in your ears, but it's nothing to worry about. There's also a TV above you, so you can watch that, if you like." Louise did not say anything; she didn't look like she even understood what Robin had said, so the doctors slid her table into the tube and closed the hatch. More intravenous fluids that were rehydrating her were again attached to her arm through a small port in the side of the chamber.

Louise had fallen asleep before they had even turned on the oxygen.

Bob and Linda only awoke when Louise was brought back to her room; her arms and legs hadn't changed during her ninety-minute treatment, but the doctors hoped that consecutive sessions would heal the damaged tissue. Linda stayed with Louise as her IV's were put back in her arms, while Bob went to awaken his other children. When they arrived back at the room, the nurses were beginning to clean Louise's back wounds.

Her electrical bed had been adjusted so that she was in a sitting position, and her hospital gown was parted.

“Okay, Louise,” said Lucy, “we're just going to clean the wounds on your back. It's going to sting a little, okay?” It was pointless talking to Louise; the girl was so physically exhausted that she was unable to sit up unassisted, let alone talk, but the two women continued to do so.

The nurses began to clean the pressure wounds on her bruised back with a saltwater solution. It was painful, but Louise only sat there, eyes half-open, head lolling against Lucy's shoulder, her parents unable to hold her hands because she had a nurse either side of her, and her siblings were stood at the foot of the bed, watching silently.

Linda, who was the closest, could see the wounds which resembled little craters; they were red, blackened and shiny, with bits of dead tissue surrounding them. Linda wasn't that squeamish, but she had to try very hard not to gag. Bob had moved over to the window, and was determinedly staring out of it, sweating heavily. Linda spoke to Louise while her wounds were cleaned and even though she didn't answer, she still did her best to comfort her daughter.

Soon enough, the nurses had finished; they tilted the bed back, being careful to keep her shoulders and lower back on the foam blocks that were keeping her slightly elevated. Louise had already gone back to sleep.

Dr Cabell had now entered the room, and Linda immediately rounded on him. A decent sleep had fully rejuvenated her, and she was ready for anything.

“How come I was not allowed in with her this morning?” she said, referring to the emergency room.

“Louise had to be examined by our trauma team, and we needed calm and quiet to -”

“Yeah, they said that, but I want to know _why._ I wouldn't have been in the way; I could have just been there for her, and it might have helped.” Cabell remained silent. "Was she scared?" Linda asked. "In the emergency room, was she scared?" That was what annoyed her the most about not being allowed to be with Louise; she might have needed her, and she wasn't able to comfort her child.

"She was more tired than anything else," Robin told her. "She asked for you both a few times," she added.

“See; she needed me!” said Linda, a hint of triumph in her voice. “My baby needed me, and you wouldn't let me in!”

“Alright, ma'am, I'll tell you why it was best for you to remain outside. We were worried about her heart. In the ambulance, when we were checking Louise over, we noticed that her pulse was rapid and weak, and we wanted to do everything we could to avoid putting any untold stress on her. If you and your family had come in, she might have gotten overly excited. I'm sorry we couldn't tell you this earlier; we didn't want to worry you more.”

“Is she okay now? Is her heart okay?” Linda almost gagged; all she could were the words 'rapid and weak pulse' over and over again, echoing inside her head until they bashed against the sides of her skull.

“Yes, her pulse is stronger,” said Cabell, as he and Robin checked the equipment hooked up to Louise, while the family stood there, shocked. That was the most frightening news of all, and none of them said a word because they couldn't think of anything to say.

* * *

“Listen, Lin, I'm going to take the kids' home for a while,” said Bob after an hour, when Louise had still not awakened. “Get them something to eat, get a bit of rest, and maybe bring some things for Louise.”

“Okay,” said Linda, not taking her eyes off of her sleeping daughter. Bob kissed her, and then Louise before leaving with his other children; Gene quickly ran back to give Louise a hug, followed by Tina.

The three of them walked silently through the hospital, not saying a word to one another. Each of them were lost in their own thoughts. Once outside, Bob scoured the car park for his car.

“Kids', do you remember where we parked?” he asked, genuinely not knowing. He couldn't see the car at all, and he was confused. Gene and Tina remained silent, waiting for him to figure it out. “Oh, that's right,” said Bob a few moments later, realisation dawning upon him. “We didn't drive here. Well, I guess we'll have to take a cab,” and pulled out the emergency phone to call a taxi.

The drive home was strangely quiet; they were overjoyed, but also wrought with worry. The joy outweighed the worry, however, for they were all smiling. Bob was immensely pleased, but then he was so happy he was sure seeing a cat playing with a ball of string would make him tear up with joy.

“Right, that'll be $7,” said the taxi driver as he inched up outside the Belcher home, outside of which was Teddy, Mort, Regular-sized Rudy, Millie, Zeke, and the Pesto boys.

“Right,” said Bob, reaching into his pocket for his wallet, only to find that it wasn't there. He felt in the other pocket, but his wallet wasn't there, either. “My wallet's inside, can I just -” but the driver, who had been looking at him in the mirror, cut him off.

“Now I know where I recognise you from! You're that little girl's dad!” he grinned. Bob remained silent. “You know what? This one's on me,” he said, and Bob's jaw dropped.

“No, it's okay, really; my wallet's just inside...” Bob said, but the driver waved his hand.

“Seriously, it's fine. It's on me.”

“... Thank you. Thank you so much,” said Bob genuinely, as he and the children exited the taxi. Gene and Tina were being extremely careful to not make any eye contact with Millie.

“No problem!” called the driver as he sped off.

“Bob! Bobby!” called Teddy, as Bob pulled his keys from his pocket. “How's she doin'?”

“She's gonna be okay,” said Bob, after a moment's hesitation; he didn't think he could talk about how his daughter was in danger of losing limbs, and having a possible kidney transplant. Teddy grinned, as did the others.

“That's great!” Mort beamed. “Is she awake yet?”

“No, she's still sleeping.”

“We're going to bring some stuff for her,” said Gene.

“Oh, here,” Teddy reached into his jacket pocket and held up Kuchi Kopi. “The guy brought it up after they put Louise in the ambulance.”

“Thanks, Teddy,” Bob took the night light. “We'll let you guys know when you can see her,” and he unlocked the door. A mound of envelopes were piled in front of the door, and Bob was confused at the mountain of paper. Picking up an envelope, he saw that it was addressed to him and Linda, and so he opened it. Inside was a card which had the word 'congratulations' printed on it surrounded by fireworks. The card read ' _Mr and Mrs Belcher. You don't know us, but we have been following the story of your daughter's rescue ever since it broke last week. We can't tell you how happy we are that she's safe and sound, and we hope she makes a speedy recovery._

_Best regards,_

_Mr and Mrs Adams.'_

“Wow, that's really nice,” said Bob, genuinely touched. The other envelopes appeared to be the same, so they gathered all of them up into a pile, and placed them on the table in the kitchen.

Everything looked so different and yet the same. The last time they had been inside this house, Louise had still been trapped in the well. Now, it seemed so quiet. “Okay, why don't you guys get some of Louise's things, and I'll make us some dinner?” Bob suggested; and Gene and Tina went off to Louise's room, while Bob remained in the kitchen.

Tina and Gene stood in Louise's little room, wondering what to bring for her. At this particular moment, she wasn't able to do anything.

Eventually, they decided on some of her mangas, her Bakeneko and Akkoro Kamui plushes, and two board games, and they headed back into the kitchen to have dinner with their father, which they ate in silence.

“Do you think Louise is awake yet?” asked Tina, breaking the silence.

“She might be,” said Gene. “She seemed pretty tired.”

“I don't blame her,” said Bob. “I doubt she slept much in the well.”

“Is Louise's heart going to get better?” asked Tina.

“You know, I think we should take some of those cards to the hospital,” said Bob, trying to lighten the mood, and pretending he hadn't heard the last question. “It might cheer her up.”

“What time should we go back?” asked Gene.

“Well, if you're all finished, we could go right now,” Bob suggested, and the kids' rose from their seats and made their way over to the door. Bob was sorting through the pile of envelopes, before picking out a handful and stuffing them into his pocket.

Climbing into the car, they made their way to the hospital; in order to get there, they had to drive past Wharf Park. Bob couldn't help slowing down as he approached, before stopping completely. He looked at his children in the mirror, before they got out of the car, and began to walk through the park.

When they reached the well. they were rather shocked to see that the area still looked the same. The benches were still ripped down, the barriers were still in place, Styrofoam cups littered the ground, the air compressor still remained, and practically of the volunteers were still there.

After Louise had been pulled from the well, the men had been so exhausted that they had literally slept where they fell. But now, they were beginning to clean up, and Bob walked through the park, followed by the children.

Tim and Charlie were still there, as were Richards and Davis, and Carol; the five of them helping the volunteers to clean up the site.

“Hello, Mr Belcher,” said Davis as he spotted the man. “How's Louise doing?”

“She's going to be okay,” said Bob.

“That's great to hear,” he smiled, before beckoning them over. Following him, the three Belchers' looked down at the well; it had been covered with a metal plate and welded shut, rendering it impossible for anyone else to fall in. “It's been filled with cement,” Davis told them, “and the rescue tunnel will also be filled with cement today.” For now, the tunnel remained exposed; Gene's curiosity got the better of him, and he ran over to the rescue shaft and peered down. It was so deep, he couldn't see the bottom, and he crouched down in fascination.

“Gene!” Bob, fearful that his son would fall, ran over to the boy, and grabbed him. He couldn't stop himself from looking down into the tunnel, as well. It really put into perspective at how deep underground Louise had been trapped. Bob stared into the abyss while Tina joined him, looking into the tunnel, as well.

“Wow,” Tina muttered quietly.

Tears were streaming down Bob's face. Rising to his feet, he faced the first person he saw, which happened to be Davis, and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he sobbed, hugging Richards, then Tim, then Charlie, and eventually, every single person in the park.

“We were just doing our jobs, sir,” said Richards honestly, looking a bit embarrassed, surrounded by policemen, firemen and volunteers.

“But you saved her! You saved my daughter,” said Bob, more tears running down his face. “I can't thank you all enough!” Bob didn't know how to show his appreciation; his daughter was alive because of them.

“Honestly, sir, we just did what we had to,” said one digger, still covered in dust.

“Is she allowed visitors yet?” asked Tim; as he and Charlie were still lying down by the well when Louise had been brought up, they hadn't seen her properly; they had stood up when Louise appeared, but there was too many people around her. They wanted to visit and see how she was doing.

“Oh, well, she's not up for visitors yet,” Bob told him, “but when she is, we'll let you know.” The men began to disperse shortly after, and continued their arduous task of cleaning up the park, and the family went back to the car.

* * *

When they arrived back at the hospital, they were stopped by a nurse just before they entered the ICU.

“What's that you've got there?” the nurse smiled down at Tina who was holding Bakeneko.

“Some stuff for my sister,” she said.

“How lovely. Okay, well, we're gonna have to wash the toys before she can have them.”

“Why?” asked Bob.

“It's to prevent infection. Everything coming in to the ICU has to be thoroughly cleaned, even the night light,” she looked at Kuchi Kopi, who Bob was holding.

“Oh, Kuchi Kopi can't be washed,” said Bob, dread filling his stomach at what happened the last time that had happened. “He's made of vinyl, and has batteries.”

“Okay, but if he can't be cleaned, then I'm afraid it can't come in to the ICU.”

“It's her favourite toy,” said Bob, trying to make her see sense.

“I know that, sir, but it was underground and is probably covered with germs, and we can't risk it. What if we clean it with a cloth?”

“That'll be fine,” said Bob. “She needs this.” The nurse nodded and took the toys.

When they entered Louise's room, she was still asleep, and Linda was filling out some forms. “Hey, honey,” Bob kissed her on the cheek. “Has she woken up yet?”

“Not yet,” Linda scribbled something at the bottom of the paper, and handed it over to Lucy.

“What's that?” Gene asked.

“Louise has to have surgery tomorrow,” Linda told him, her voice thick.

“What kind?” asked Bob, sitting down next to her.

“A fasci-... fasci-something,” Linda was unable to remember what it was called.

“A fasciotomy,” Lucy told them. “We make a few incisions in the arms and legs, and it relieves pressure caused by swelling.”

“Is it bad enough for surgery?” Bob thought that Louise had been through enough; couldn't they just let her rest for a few days?

“I'm afraid it is. You see, the circulation in Louise's arms and legs was cut off in the well, and as her body rehydrates, the limbs swell, and the swelling causes the pressure to slow down the return of blood circulation.”

Nobody knew quite what to say to that.

“So, this will help her?” asked Bob eventually.

“Yes; it will improve circulation and blood flow. Louise will also be having debridement surgery, where we will remove the dead tissue from her affected limbs.”

“But isn't this all too much? I mean, can't she rest for a while?” asked Linda.

“I'm afraid it needs to be done sooner rather than later,” said Lucy apologetically. “If we don't, then we will have to amputate.”

“What's that thing in Louise's neck?” asked Gene, breaking the silence that followed Lucy's explanation. He had been staring at the catheter ever since they had arrived.

"It's dialysis," explained the nurse. "It takes the blood out of your sister's body, cleans it in this machine, and then returns it to Louise." Gene imagined dozens of tiny little elves in a sort of Santa's Workshop type place running around inside the machine. In his minds eye, he saw the minuscule elves taking Louise's blood (which had solidified) and pouring washing up liquid all over it, scrubbing the blood using wooden tubs and washboards, before rinsing it and putting it in the dryer. Gene saw the clean blood, now shiny and sparkling, making its way back into his little sister's body.

“So, why does Louise have blood that needs to be cleaned?” he asked.

“Well, you see, your kidneys have a special job; they clean all of the waste from your blood, and other things inside your body to keep you healthy. When Louise fell in the well, her kidneys stopped working after a while, and they weren't able to clean out the waste, so this machine is doing it for her.”

“Will her kidneys work again?” asked Gene with intent fascination.

“Yes, after a while,” Lucy smiled at Gene, then turned to Bob and Linda. “She should come off the dialysis before the end of the week,” she told them, and the parents nodded. At least there was some good news.

Just then, slight movement from the bed caused them all to turn their attention to it; Louise was stirring.

“We went back to the park, and those policemen asked me when Louise could have visitors,” Bob said to Linda, as they watched their daughter slowly wake up.

“What did you tell them?”

“I said she wasn't up to it right now,” Linda only nodded as Louise's eyes fluttered open.

“Hey, Louise,” she said softly. “How are you feeling, sweetie?” Again, Louise did not answer, instead merely looking around confusedly with bleary eyes. “Poor baby,” whispered Linda, gently stroking her forehead. “You know what?” She turned back to Bob. “They brought her some food before you came back, and she barely touched it! I don't get it; I thought she'd be starving.”

“I think she's just too tired,” Bob looked pityingly at his daughter.

The television was on, and was tuned to the local news station, in the middle of a report. Tina recognised the park on the screen and pointed it out, causing the family to watch the story.

“ _...to normal, now,”_ a reporter was saying, as the volunteers cleaned up the park behind him. _“And, of course, the well has already been filled and capped securely, and the rescue tunnel that was dug to free her is to be filled in, as well. You can see that all of these volunteers are still cleaning up the rescue site; of course, all of the machinery will be taken back, and the benches will be put back up -”_ Linda muted the TV, and turned back to Louise, who was still awake, but might as well still have been sleeping.

“Thank God they've covered the well,” she muttered, taking her daughter's hand.

“They've also welded a lid onto it,” Bob told her, grabbing the remote and un-muting the television.

“ _And now, we're speaking with the man who pulled Louise from the well,”_ the reporter was standing next to Patrick Baker, whom the Belchers instantly recognised. “ _Sir, would you mind telling us how you managed to free the girl?”_

 _"Well, the doctor told me to get her out, no matter what, even if I had to break her arms and legs. The doctor said that if I had to do it, then I had to do it.”_ Patrick began, having already relayed this story to several other reporters. _“Once I got my head and shoulders into the well, I just started removing all the bricks, and putting them in a bucket, just clearing all the rubble off of her. There was a lot, and so it took me a while. Eventually, I managed to free her arms, and she just stared at me, and then I reached forward and picked her up, and I pulled her into the tunnel, and she just lay there in my arms. Her arms and legs were black, and she was completely silent. I didn't have to tell her to calm down or anything. When I had pulled her into the tunnel, Louise went limp.”_

“ _She went limp?”_ the reporter interrupted. _“How do you mean?”_

“ _I mean, I pulled her into the tunnel, and her whole body went limp, like she had fainted; I think it might have been too much for her.”_

“ _Wow, that must have been frightening.”_

“ _It was,”_ Patrick admitted, not saying anything about how he had briefly panicked because he thought that Louise had died. He then spoke about how happy he was that Louise was recovering, and he expressed a wish to visit the girl, and the interview was over.

Now that the report had finished, Bob muted the television and turned back to Louise, who was still barely awake. They were trying to absorb what they had just heard, particularly about Louise falling limp after being freed; they could only imagine at how scared she must have been, and how relieved she must have felt to be rescued. Although they tried, especially the children, they could not fathom what it was like to be stuck in a small, dark space underground, being unable to move, and, after a while, unable to call for help.

“Excuse me, Mr and Mrs Belcher?” Robin approached them, jerking them out of their thoughts. “There's a woman outside wanting to speak with you; a reporter. Would you like her to come in?”

“Uh...” Bob and Linda looked at one another. “Sure. Why not?” Robin returned to the door, and let in amateur reporter Olsen Benner, followed by Ed and his trusty camera.

“Good afternoon, Mr and Mrs Belcher,” she began professionally. She still looked dishevelled after almost a week of continuous news coverage; now Nathan was pestering her to get an exclusive interview with the family, and if she could manage it, talk to Louise herself. “I'm really sorry I have to do this, but my boss is insisting for an interview.”

“That's okay,” said Bob amiably. He and Linda were a lot more accommodating for the media now, naturally, and they had promised her an interview, after all.

“Could you not interview the children?” asked Linda, as she did not want them exposed to the press.

“Of course not; I just want to quickly speak to the both of you. First off, I just want to say that I'm so glad that Louise is out,” said Olsen sincerely, as she took out her notebook and pen, and Ed pointed the camera at them.

“Thank you; so are we,” said Linda.

“How does it feel now that Louise is out? To see her again after all that waiting?”

“It feels .. amazing; I mean, there aren't any words to describe how happy we are,” said Bob. “I'm just so relieved.”

“Tell me, if you can, how you felt when you discovered that Louise had fallen in the well.”

“I just – I didn't want to believe it,” said Bob. “This girl came into the restaurant and said that Louise was in trouble; she'd fallen into a well, and I couldn't believe it, so I followed her to the park, and called Louise, and when I heard her voice, that's when I knew it was true. It was awful.”

“I – I had never been so scared in my entire life,” Linda admitted. “I felt like my heart had stopped, and I was reaching down the well, trying to pull her back up, but she was too far to reach. I was trying to be calm, but I was terrified.”

“Has Louise's condition changed at all?” Olsen asked, and Lucy, who was standing nearby, answered her.

“Her condition still remains serious, but stable,” she confirmed.

“And what about the rumours of amputation? Will you need to amputate, or can it be avoided?”

“We shall not know for several more days.”

“Is Louise scheduled to have any surgeries?”

“Yes; she is due to have a fasciotomy and debridement tomorrow,” said Lucy, after glancing at Linda and Bob, who had nodded their okay.

“How do you feel about the trust fund that's been set up to pay Louise's hospital bills?” Judging from the looks' on Bob and Linda's faces, this was the first they had heard of it.

“Someone set up a trust fund?” asked Bob, his eyes welling over.

“Yes, the money raised will go towards the hospital bills.”

“That's so generous!” Linda gasped. “I – I don't know what to say; I – I'm overwhelmed!”

“Okay, this is the last question; Mr and Mrs Belcher, is there anything you would like to say to the people who saved your daughter?”

“I want to thank each and every one of them,” said Linda sincerely. “I'm so glad she's out of the well, and she's safe and alive, and it's down to all of those people that she's here with us now. Thank you so much, to everyone.”

“Thank you, Mr and Mrs Belcher,” said Olsen, finishing up her writing in the little notebook. “Could I trouble you for a few pictures?” As Bob and Linda couldn't see a problem with that, they agreed.

Ed moved over to the left side of Louise's bed, and aimed his camera. The resulting photograph, which made the front page of the local newspaper, and several others, the following day, showed Louise lying in her bed, her eyes barely open. It showed the bruises on her face, the catheter in her neck, the IV's in her blackened arms, and the equipment surrounding her. “Could one of you sit on the other side of the bed?” Olsen asked, moving a few feet away from the foot of the bed; the parents complied, and Ed snapped a picture of Bob and Linda at the bedside. Linda was holding Louise's left hand, and Bob had one of his hands gently resting on Louise's right arm, as Olsen had told them to do. Ed took two pictures; one of Linda and Bob looking at Louise, and another of them looking at the camera. When she had finished, Olsen left, thanking them before she did so.

Linda noticed that Louise was still awake, and that she was still staring blankly ahead.

“Right, that's it,” she said, and everybody looked at her. “From now on, no one speaks to any reporters unless Louise says it's okay,” she ordered.

“Why?” asked Tina.

“Look at her,” Linda gestured to her bedridden child. “She didn't even know that man was here! When she wakes up properly, if she wants anyone to speak to the press, then we can; but not until she's ready. It's her story, after all.”

* * *

A couple of hours later, Louise had fallen asleep, when a doctor they hadn't seen before entered the room.

“Hello, Mr and Mrs Belcher, my name's Dr Kettleman, and I specialise in child psychology,” he shook their hands, gesturing for them to sit.

“Are you here to talk to Louise?” asked Bob.

“Well, I hope to in the future, but, right now, I just want to have a quick chat with you two, about what you might expect from her.”

“Like what?” Linda leaned forward slightly.

“I believe Dr Cabell mentioned emotional trauma?” he asked, and the parents nodded. “It is very likely that she will suffer from that. It's too early to tell right now, and I don't want to make any formal diagnosis yet, but given what she's been through, it would be astounding if she came through mentally unscathed.”

“What is.. emotional trauma?” asked Bob.

“In her case, there would be things like nightmares, flashbacks, trouble sleeping; she may be overwhelmed by certain fears, things like that. These are all perfectly normal things for her to experience. She may have some sort of anxiety, possibly when you leave her sight, and she may mentally regress a little bit, and become clingy. Again, it's all completely normal, so I don't want you to worry. From what I've seen, you seem to be a very supportive family, and that will be the most helpful thing.” Bob and Linda looked relieved.

“So, we just keep doing what we're doing?” Linda clarified, and the doctor nodded.

“Yes, and also remember to look after yourselves; it was a stressful time for you, too. If you feel worried, then please, talk to me. It's natural for you to feel overprotective of her now. You may have nightmares too, but again, it's all normal. I obviously wouldn't speak to her today; I don't want to overwhelm her.”

“I think she's too tired right now,” said Linda, and Kettleman nodded.

“That's fine. Would it be alright to see if I can speak to Louise in a week or two?” he suggested.

“Well, if she wants to,” said Bob slowly. “She's.. not very good at expressing her feelings,” he admitted. “If she doesn't want to talk, then we're not gonna force her.”

“That's perfectly fine,” nodded Kettleman. “Absolutely fine. If she decides she wants to talk -” _'She won't,'_ Bob thought, “then we can arrange something. If not, perhaps give her a little time to recover, and then try again?”

“How come?”

“It'll be a way for us to see how she's coping. It's very likely that she will struggle, and keeping support options open could be a big help.”

“Okay, we'll do that,” said Bob, privately thinking that Louise would never breathe a word of it. “And, uh, we'll let you know.”

“No problem,” the doctor rose, as did the parents. “It was nice to meet you.” He nodded again.

“Thank you so much, doctor,” said Linda.

When he left, they resumed sitting, and they were silent. It was quite scary to think about how Louise could go through yet more trauma.

“Well, we'll just have to help her,” said Bob finally, as if in response to a question.

“We can do that.”

“What's emotional trauma?” asked Gene. “Is Louise gonna be like I was when we found out Bruce Willis was dead the whole time?”

“We don't know,” said Bob honestly. “From what the doctor said, it's mainly bad dreams, and she might feel anxious.”

“They can help her, right?” asked Tina quietly, looking worried.

“Of course they can,” Bob assured her. “They're doctors. There isn't anything doctors can't do.”

“Except get down and boogie,” said Gene.

* * *

After a good night's sleep, in which Bob and Linda again fell asleep at their daughter's bedside, they were awoken by Lucy and Robin examining Louise. To their surprise, Gene and Tina were there, as well, curled up asleep in their chairs.

Linda glanced at the clock, it was after eight in the morning, which meant that she had missed Louise's first hyperbaric treatment of the day. Linda promised herself that she wasn't going to miss another, if she could help it.

While the Belcher parents were stretching and waking up properly, Dr Cabell entered the room, followed by another man the family did not know.

“Good morning, Mr and Mrs Belcher,” the man smiled, with his light hair and matching beard neatly trimmed. “I'm Dr Rhode; I'm a surgeon, and I'm going to be doing Louise's fasciotomies. The procedure will last for about two hours, and when it's over, Louise will be taken to the recovery room, and you'll be able to see her there. Do you have any questions?”

Linda had far too much on her mind, that she couldn't seem to think of any questions, and Bob was once again sweating profusely and looking dangerously pale, and so the doctors carefully moved Louise onto a gurney and began to wheel her out of the room.

The family made to follow, but they were stopped by Cabell.

“I'm afraid you won't be allowed in the operating room,” Cabell said apologetically, “you will have to remain in the waiting room, and when we've finished, we'll come and get you.”

“I want to go with her,” said Linda; even though Louise was still asleep, she still wanted to be there for her. Bob wanted to as well, but he was certain that he would pass out upon seeing a needle, so he happily obliged the doctor's orders.

“I know you do, ma'am, but family aren't allowed in the operating room, and we can't bend the rules for anyone. As soon as we're done, we'll take Louise to the recovery room, and then you can see her.”

Linda was so angry with Cabell; from her point of view, he was preventing her from caring for her daughter, and she was so blind-sided with concern and worry for Louise that she couldn't see any other point of view. Cabell took advantage of the mother's momentary silence and signalled for Lucy and Robin to escort the family to the waiting room where they had sat the previous night.

“I don't see why I can't go in there,” said Linda, as soon as the two nurses had left, completely ignoring the other family in the room. “It's not like I'll be in the way; I just wanted to be in the room!”

“I know, Lin,” Bob tried to console her, sitting on one of the sofas with his children. “But we have to let them do their jobs.” Linda only huffed in annoyance and threw herself down next to Bob.

The other family, which consisted of a mother, father and two little girls, were staring at them. Linda didn't feel like her usual bubbly self, but Bob looked over at the family.

“Hey, there,” he grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “What you in for?” he chuckled at his attempt at the joke, but the family didn't, leaving him floundering.

“Our son is having a heart transplant,” said the father seriously, eyeing Bob, wondering how anyone could be so cheerful in the waiting room at a hospital.

“Oh, s-sorry to hear about that,” Bob apologised, noticing the family's frazzled looks. Had they looked like that when Louise had been trapped in the well? “I hope he'll be okay.”

“Thank you,” said the young mother, clutching her husband's hand tightly. “What's wrong with your child?”

“She's having a.. fasciotomy,” Bob struggled to remember the word for a moment, “and then debridement after.”

“What's a fasciotomy?” asked the mother, her pretty, young face crinkling in confusion.

“They make incisions in the arms and legs,” Linda said, flipping through a stack of magazines and newspapers on the table in front of them. “It relieves pressure and helps with circulation.”

“Why does she need that?” asked of the little girls, putting down her colouring book and shaking her bunches out of her eyes.

“Our daughter fell in a well,” said Bob, wondering if that sentence would ever become more realistic. “And she was trapped, so this will make her better.”

“Wait,” said the father, his dark eyes narrowing. “You're not the parents of that kid that was pushed into the well and rescued yesterday?”

“Yes, we are,” said Linda; both she and Bob were still getting used to the fact that seemingly the whole of Seymour's Bay had been watching their daughter's rescue.

“Wow!” the elder of the two little girls was now staring at them with fascination.

“I gotta say, we've all been watching the news on it,” the father told them, “it kept us distracted while we had to wait in here for hours.” 

“Wow,” Linda echoed the little girl. It still felt unreal that while they had been waiting anxiously for their child to be freed, so had lots of other people. She didn't know what to say, so she glanced at the newspaper in her hand and started. On the front page was a photo of a newly-freed Louise, strapped down to a backboard, just after she had been brought up. _'Louise free after 5 days,'_ the headline read. Quickly turning the page, Linda continued to read.

“ _Nine-year-old Louise Belcher was rescued from an abandoned well yesterday by dozens of workers who spent five days digging a tunnel to free her._

“ _The girl, bruised, and covered with dirt, was pulled from the well after 12:20 Wednesday, and strapped to a backboard, before being hoisted up out of the shaft to the cheers of her family, neighbours, and rescue workers. She had been trapped for 114 hours._

“ _It was just so amazing to finally see her,” said Deputy police chief Jack Davis, who had helped supervise the rescue operation, “I'm relieved that she's out now, and glad it's over.”_

_Louise, who had had no food since falling into the 14-inch wide well the previous Friday, appeared exhausted and disoriented, and was rushed to a waiting ambulance, and taken to Ocean City Memorial Hospital._

_Examinations revealed that Louise has a broken ankle, and a fractured coccyx. She is suffering from hypothermia, dehydration, and her chest, stomach and back are badly bruised. She is also suffering from kidney failure, and her arms and legs were black due to constricted blood flow._

_Louise has been admitted to the intensive care unit, and is being fed intravenously, and is on dialysis. Louise also suffered several pressure wounds, similar to a bedsore, on her back, along with septicaemia, where the wounds became infected._

_The rescue ended an almost week-long process in which rescue workers dug a parallel shaft next to the well, and then dug a connecting tunnel. 114 hours after she fell in, two paramedics slithered into the tomb-like tunnel, one squeezed his head and shoulders into the well, and managed to free Louise._

_Early Wednesday morning, workers reached the well, causing additional work to widen the hole so that a paramedic could reach through and pull her out._

_The rescue efforts began at 10pm on Friday when an eighty-five-foot shaft was drilled 5 feet away from the well, four hours after the child became trapped._

_A microphone was dropped into the well, so that police could communicate with the little girl, and it was believed that she was not badly injured. As the night went on, pipes containing oxygen and warm air were lowered into the well to keep the girl alert._

_Finally, at 11:30am Wednesday morning two paramedics descended into the shaft and saved the girl, bringing her to the surface, and bringing an end to the ordeal._

_Louise's parents, Bob and Linda, accompanied their daughter to the hospital, along with their two other children, where Louise underwent a complete medical examination._

_Her nightmare began at 6pm Friday evening; while running an errand for her father, Louise was approached by 15-year-old Logan Bush, who had previously bullied her. He wanted to perform a wrestling move on her, but instead pushed her, causing Louise to fall into the well. After Logan ran off, two teenage girls heard her cries for help and alerted her parents._

The article was accompanied by two more photos; one of Louise on the gurney being taken to the ambulance, and another of her arriving at the hospital, Bob and Linda just visible in the shot. She didn't know there had even been reporters waiting at the hospital. “Wow,” she repeated, handing the paper to Bob. “I still can't believe they've taken such an interest in this.”

* * *

When Cabell returned, he took Linda and Bob to the recovery room, while Gene and Tina had to remain in the waiting room.

“The operation was a success,” he told them as they followed him down the hallway, before entering the recovery room.

The room itself looked like a typical hospital ward; there were several beds separated by curtains; nurses bustling about; monitors, IV's, tables, and the like.

The room was noisy; nurses and doctors conferring with each other, speaking to other patients' and their families'; the constant beeping of different types of machines, the sound of IV bags being adjusted; chairs being moved, curtains being draped back and forth and other such noises.

Louise was in a bed halfway down the room, an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose, with a nurse bending over her. “She's still under,” said Cabell, leading the parents over to their child. “She should wake up in a few hours, and when she does, she'll be transferred back to her room.”

Under the blanket, Linda and Bob could see that Louise's legs were elevated. Her arms, which had been strapped to boards, were resting palm side up with her elbows bent and her hands next to her head. Fortunately, they could not see the incisions that ran from knee to ankle on either side of her calves, and the two-inch-long incisions in her thighs and her feet, and the backs of her hands, nor the loose dressing that allowed the muscles to swell out of the limb. They could see the same incisions and swelling muscles on her blackened, inner forearms, however.

Louise was connected to several different IV's giving her pain medication and rehydrating fluids, and a blood pressure cuff was attached to her left arm, and she was also hooked up to various machines to monitor her vital signs. “Louise is stable; her blood pressure, heart rate, and temperature are all normal,” Cabell told them, as Bob and Linda checked on their daughter.

“That's good,” said Linda, relieved to hear some good news, as she bent over Louise.

“So, she's going to be fine? You won't need to amputate?” Bob looked worse than Louise; still sweating buckets, shaking, and swaying so badly he could barely stand.

“It depends on how quickly the blood circulation improves. We gave Louise a Doppler exam -”

“A what?” Linda straightened up and turned to face him.

“It's just like an ultrasound, only it shows blood flow. The Doppler showed us that Louise's arms and legs, and her hands and feet, are not receiving adequate blood supply, and we are hoping that the debridement and the hyperbaric chamber sessions are going to help improve the blood flow. We will also be leaving the wounds open because we expect swelling to continue. In a few days, we'll do some temporary skin grafts, taking donor tissue from Louise's hips and buttocks to cover the wounds.”

“So, how long will it take before you know?” asked Linda.

“Several days, possibly a week,” Cabell told her.

“You won't be able to tell any sooner?” asked Bob, looking worried.

“We want to avoid amputation if we can; that's why we're going to give Louise a chance to heal a bit first before we make any major decisions.”

* * *

In the end, Bob and Linda had to go back to the waiting room, and Cabell told them that he would let them know when Louise had awoken and would be returned to her room.

“How did it go?” asked Tina, as soon as Bob and Linda had re-entered the waiting room. The other family had gone, and now it was just them.

“The doctor said everything went fine, but they still won't know for a few days if they need to amputate,” Linda told him, sitting down on the sofa.

“How will they know?” Gene asked.

“They just will,” Linda said.

“But how?” the boy repeated.

“They'll know when the blood starts flowing back into her arms and legs,” Bob told his son. Like the rest of his family, he was still trying to take everything in.

“Did you see her arms and legs?” Gene asked his parents. “Will she have scars?”

“Her legs were covered,” said Bob, looking rather ill. “Her arms were bandaged a bit. I don't know if she'll have scars. She might.”

“Cool,” Gene grinned.

Just as they had done the previous day, they waited and waited in the comfortable room. Gene grew bored, and went to bother the fish; soon joined by Tina, and Bob and Linda switched the television back on. They did not watch the news, so whether Louise featured on there again or not, they didn't have a clue. Instead, they watched a cheesy soap opera in order to take their mind off everything. “Can we get some fish like these?” asked Gene after a while, his nose pressed up against the glass.

“No,” said Bob, looking over at him. “No, Gene. No fish. No.” Gene opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Cabell entering the room.

“Louise has come round,” he announced, “and we have taken her back to her room, so you can all see her now.”

Again, as they had done before, the Belchers' made their way back into the intensive care unit, washed their hands, and stepped into Louise's room. She was awake, but only just.

“Hey, honey,” said Linda softly, stroking her cheek. “How are you feeling?” Louise seemed to be no more alert than she was the previous day, and therefore, she did not answer her mother. But it was to be expected; after all, she had just had surgery. Within moments, she was sleeping again.

Her legs was still elevated, and still under the blanket, and her elevated arms were still strapped to boards, and the girl was still attached to the rehydrating fluids, and the heart and blood pressure monitors. Her face was still bruised and there were dark circles under her eyes. “Is it good for her to be sleeping so much?” Linda turned to Cabell.

“Well,” he began, “we don't know how much she slept while in the well, but I would guess that it was around twelve hours, minimum. At this point, sleep is one of the best things for her, and it'll be a chance for her body to catch up on it, so we're just going to let her sleep.”

“So, when will she wake up?” asked Gene.

“It's hard to say,” said Cabell. “I would say she'll properly wake up within the next few days.” Cabell excused himself and left the room.

“Whoa, twelve hours?” Bob looked shocked. “That's less than two hours a day!”

“No wonder she's so exhausted,” Tina looked down at her sister.

“Right,” said Linda, taking a seat next to Louise. “We've got some things to sort out.”

“Like what?” asked Bob.

“Like work. Who's going back to work tomorrow, and who's going to be with Louise? Are we gonna keep the restaurant closed? The kids have to go back to school, and we need to decide who's going to fix their dinner, put them to bed and get them up.”

“I don't wanna go back to school!” cried Gene. “I wanna stay with Louise.”

“I'm afraid you have to go back to school, sweetie,” said Linda.

“So, what about work? Which one of us is it going to be?” asked Bob

“Well, I want to stay here with Louise,” said Linda.

“So do I,” Bob and Linda looked at each other. “I'm sure we'll work something out,” Bob assured her. Linda nodded and clutched his hand, and the four of them gathered silently around Louise's bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! With luck, the next chapter will be up on November 2nd.
> 
> It has been brought to my attention that as Logan is a minor, he wouldn't have been named. Admittedly, I couldn't find out much in my research, so can you forgive me for that slip up?  
> Perhaps we can pretend that as he and Cynthia went on TV and admitted it, they have grounds to publish his name?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! I'm back with another chapter for you.

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 8

After eight days in the hospital, Louise was beginning to perk up. She had been too exhausted to do anything but sleep, now she was able to sit up and make conversation.

The doctors and nurses, and her parents, had been okay with Louise constantly sleeping, for it made it easier for them to treat her. Bob knew Louise, he knew she was stubborn, and afraid of hospitals – if Louise didn't want to have blood taken, she wasn't going to have blood taken. But the state the girl was in made her hyperbaric treatments and trips to the operating room much easier. Plus, as Cabell had said, sleep was one of the best things for her. They had even tried to wake her a few times, but Louise could not physically stay awake, so it was decided to let the girl wake up by herself.

For that first week, Louise slept while she was taken to the hyperbaric chamber three times a day; she slept while her fasciotomy dressings were changed every other day; she slept as she was taken off the dialysis **;** she slept while she had debridement surgery on her arms, legs and back thrice that week; she slept while tissue was taken from her hips and buttocks for skin grafts on her arms and legs, hands and feet; she slept during her daily bed-baths, she slept while her hair was washed and brushed, she slept while her teeth were cleaned twice a day, she slept while more skin grafts were placed on her back, and she slept while her pressure wounds were cleaned daily.

Because Louise slept so much, the family's visits consisted of sitting around and talking in whispers. On the occasions the girl did wake up, she was unaware of her surroundings, and she didn't have the energy to do anything except lie there.

She was able to eat, and every morning, Louise was given either porridge or cereal, which she would sleepily eat a few mouthfuls of, and she would do the same with lunch and dinner, which usually consisted of soup or chicken broth. She was given food and nutrients through an IV line.

Throughout the day, she was given cups of Oral Rehydrating Solution, along with ice chips and ice lollies, all of which she gladly accepted.

For the rest of the week, the restaurant had been closed; Bob had reopened it the following Monday, five days after the rescue, and it had been shockingly busy. He knew why; every customer that came in asked him about Louise.

The Belcher family had now gotten themselves into a routine; Bob and Linda would wake Gene and Tina, give them breakfast and see them off to school, and then one parent would open the restaurant, and the other parent would go to the hospital. The working parent would close the diner at three p.m., pick up the kids' from school, and they would all go to the hospital. After a few hours, the working parent would take the kids' home, give them dinner and put them to bed. They would then go back to the hospital, and the other parent would go home to sleep. The next day, they would switch over.

It had been a struggle for the first few days, but they had soon gotten into the swing of it. Running a busy restaurant on their own wasn't easy, but it needed to be done; unfortunately, money was something they had to have.

While all of this was going on, several local and major newspapers in New Jersey were keeping their readers updated with Louise's recovery and progress. Different reporters and journalists interviewed as many people involved in the rescue as they could, so as to have something new to print. Many people were still very invested in the story, and they wanted to see how Louise was doing. Due to social media, and the fact that Louise was pushed into the well, the story was able to get international attention, reaching many major countries.

Most of the volunteers were happy to talk about their experiences, and how glad they were that Louise was out, and that everything was going back to normal.

Just as before, as not much was happening, only short updates could be given; as the doctors and nurses were complying with the Belchers' request to not speak to the press, there was little in the way of new information. Mainly, the little stories would be re-tellings of the rescue; Louise's current condition and that there was still a chance for amputation; that messages were still coming in from all over the country; that the trust fund for the hospital bills was still in operation and here was where they could donate, and all of the compassion that was shown during the previous week.

Gene and Tina had returned to school that Monday, five days after Louise had been rescued. It felt surreal to be back, but also, they were glad that everything was finally getting back to normal.

When they had stepped through the gates that morning, a few of the kids surrounded them, asking all sorts of questions about Louise. It was strange to see all these kids so concerned over their scary little sister, but the Belcher children happily obliged, and told the kids what they wanted to know, and they were both heartily welcomed back into class.

“How's she doing?” asked a girl Tina did not know.

“She'll be okay,” was all Tina said before sitting down. Louise's condition wasn't really spoken about, either at home or the hospital; they were just taking everything one day at a time, and whatever happened, happened.

At break time, they were accosted by Mr. Frond.

“How are you guys doing?” he asked.

“We're fine,” said Tina.

“Are you sure? Things like this can affect you, too.”

“We're fine,” said Gene.

“Okay, well, just remember; if you ever need to talk, stop by my office. We can use my new therapy doll, 'Expressing Yourself Jeff.'”

“That's a terrible name,” Gene observed, raising an eyebrow. Frond looked quite hurt.

“There are no names ending with “elf!” Jeff was the closest one!” he whined, before composing himself, “so, again, feel free to talk to me or Jeff any time.”

Both of them left school that day weighed down with dozens of get-well cards for Louise.

* * *

Now, on a Thursday morning, eight days after she had been freed, Louise awoke. She felt uncomfortable and tried to stretch unsuccessfully, before looking around. Instantly, she knew she was in hospital, and she, looking down, saw that she was connected to IV's. Her arms and legs felt a bit stiff.

Lucy noticed that she was awake at the same time Robin entered carrying a breakfast tray.

“Good morning, Louise” Robin smiled as she and Lucy approached her. She placed the tray on the little, movable table beside the bed and moved quickly, for Louise was trying to sit up. “Oh, no, honey, don't do that. Here..” she pressed the button next to the bed, and it adjusted itself so that Louise was sitting up. Her hand quickly reached up, and when she felt her bunny ears, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Robin then moved the table so it was over Louise's lap. On the tray was a simple breakfast of porridge, a glass of water, and a little bowl of apple slices and grapes; they were keeping her on a diet that was high in water content. Louise thought it was the most wonderful sight she had ever seen. The food was gone in an unsurprisingly short amount of time, and now that she was awake and aware of her surroundings, they began to fill her on everything that had happened.

“How are you feeling?” Robin asked the most important question.

“Okay,” muttered Louise, rubbing her eyes, her voice a little hoarse from disuse. “Can I have another drink?” she asked, and Lucy gave her a tall glass of water, which Louise drank in two gulps, and Lucy went to refill it.

“Louise, my name is Robin, and myself and Lucy here have been taking care of you. You've been in hospital for just over a week, and you've been sleeping for practically all that time. Do you remember being pulled out of the well?”

Flashbacks of pain, intense fear, strange voices, and a constant hammering noise came rushing into Louise's head.

“Yes,” she said, as Lucy gave the glass back to her.

“And do you remember coming to hospital, to the emergency room?” That was vague, as everything had happened very quickly. Oddly enough, she remembered at how good it had felt to have her legs stretched out after almost a week of the opposite. Louise remembered a lot of people leaning closely over her, she remembered needles, and having her head strapped down onto the bed, amongst other things.

“Yes,” she repeated.

“Okay, what else do you remember?” That was tricky. Louise remembered vaguely being moved about a lot that night; she remembered the X-ray machine, and the CT scans, and that needle being pressed into her neck. She couldn't remember anything else, and she said all of this.

“Your mother will be here soon,” said Lucy, which was what Louise really wanted to hear.

“You've had some surgery,” Robin told her. “Your left ankle is broken, and you have a fractured coccyx; your tail bone. You've had what's called a fasciotomy, to help relieve pressure in your arms and legs, and you've also had some debridement surgery, where we remove dead skin.”

“What?” Louise had thrown the blanket up and stared at her legs. The swelling had gone down, but her toes were still completely black. Her arms and hands had regained their usual colour. She was lucky in the fact that her fasciotomy wounds had recently been closed, and now black stitches ran down both sides of her legs from knee to ankle, and both sides of the bottom half of her thighs, and the tops of her feet. Her inner forearms had wavy stitches from elbow to wrist, and also on the backs of her hands. Louise gaped at the limbs, horrified.

“It's looking much better,” Robin assured her. “It's improved significantly since you arrived.” She decided to tell her about the chance of amputation, because the doctors were still uncertain whether or not they could avoid it. “Louise,” she began gently. “They might have to amputate if the circulation doesn't improve, but we hope not to.” The only thing Louise heard was the word 'amputate,' and she was shocked. She didn't want that, didn't want them to cut her arms and legs off. The very thought of it horrified her; living the rest of her life in a wheelchair, or limping around with prosthetics; she didn't want that. She felt like screaming; if she had just raised her arms, then she would have gotten out immediately; she would be fine, carrying on with her life as normal, and not be lying in a hospital bed staring at toes that looked like they were about to fall off.

“Don't cut them off!” she gasped, as Lucy gently pulled the blanket out of her hand and replaced it. “I need my legs! You can't cut them off!”

“We might not need to,” Robin repeated. “As I said, you have improved lots, so we might not.” Upon learning that there was a slight chance, just a slight one, was enough to calm Louise down somewhat.

Fortunately, at that moment, Linda arrived, looking immensely relieved when she saw Louise awake and sitting up.

“Louise, you're awake!” she cried, rushing over to Louise's bedside. “Oh, my baby, I'm so glad you're all right!” Linda hugged her tightly, before stepping back. Louise had not hugged her mother at first, but after a few seconds, her arm slowly crept up and wrapped itself around Linda. “How are you feeling, sweetie?” she asked.

“Okay, I guess, but I'm still tired actually,” said Louise, still clutching the empty glass.

“You shouldn't be,” chuckled Linda, “you slept for practically a week straight. To be fair, I felt like doing that last week, as well,” said the mother, her eyes misting over slightly.

“Didn't you sleep?” asked Louise.

“We didn't,” said Linda.“That first night was the worst; well, so were the others...”

“Other nights?” Louise asked. “How – how long was I down there?” It was then that Linda realised that Louise had no idea how long she had been trapped, and how could she? Being stuck underground, she would have had trouble distinguishing between night and day.

"Five days," Linda told her and Louise's jaw dropped. She would never have guessed she had been trapped for that long; it felt to her like six weeks, but she would have said two or three days at the most if she had to be logical. She had tried to keep track of the days, by checking the light from the well opening; but when she had no idea how long she'd slept for, it became difficult.

"Really?" she asked and Linda nodded.

"Yeah, they drilled non stop to get you out." Louise was about to ask why it took so long when Lucy brought in a cup of ice chips; which were to prevent her from getting ill from drinking too quickly. Linda noted that Louise actually ate them, rather than sucking on them.

“What took so long?” she asked, and Linda hesitated slightly.

“They just really struggled with the drilling; it would take them a whole day to dig about ten inches, but then they got better stuff. They had to dig the last foot by hand, which took more than a day. But they got you out,” she smiled, trying to look at the positives. “Do you feel up to having visitors?” she asked, “there are a lot of people who want to see you.”

“Like who?” Louise popped another ice chip into her mouth.

“All the people who got you out.”

“Huh?”

“There were a lot of people who worked to get you out,” she told her. “And if you want them to visit, then it's up to you.”

“Okay, I guess,” said Louise.

“Okay, well, I'll go and let them know later,” she said, and Louise nodded. Linda felt that Louise had dealt with enough information for today, so she stopped talking about the rescue, and they just chatted until lunchtime, and Linda was relieved to see that Louise's appetite had returned.

“Where's everyone else? Dad, Tina...”

“Tina and Gene are at school, and your father's at the restaurant,” said Linda.

“What? Why is Dad at the restaurant?”

“Well, we need to keep it open at lunchtime, sweetie,” said Linda. “When your brother and sister finish school, they'll all come here to see you.”

“Louise,” said Robin, when the girl had finished eating, “we're going to take you for your hyperbaric chamber treatment now.”

“My what?”

“It's nothing to worry about,” she assured her. “You just lie on this bed inside a chamber, and it releases oxygen; it helps to speed up the healing process.” It didn't sound too bad to Louise, and Linda accompanied her to the chamber.

Louise soon changed her mind when she saw the chamber for herself. She didn't want to go in there; she didn't know why, she just knew that she would rather not.

Of course, she had no choice; her broken ankle, combined with the fact that she was still too weak to walk, ascertained that Louise would not be able to avoid going in the chamber.

Just as before, her bed was slid into the giant clear tube, and the IV's were reattached to her. Louise could only look around, wondering what was going to happen.

"Okay, Louise," came Robin's voice from a small speaker inside the tube. "We're going to turn on the oxygen now."

Almost at once the oxygen began to pressurise inside the tube and Louise gasped at the feeling in her ears; she felt as if they had popped, and she brought up her hands to cover them.

For a while, she tried to concentrate on the television that was playing cartoons above her, but being in this tube reminded her too much of being stuck in the well and she did not like it. The glass casing helped, as it did not make the chamber seem so small, but, once again, she was in an enclosed space with no way of getting out. She placed her hand on the side of the chamber and took a deep breath. It was very strange; she was in this closed acrylic tube, and yet she could breathe, but she still couldn't relax. She felt as though she was underwater. "How are you doing in there?" came Robin's gentle voice, and Louise looked over to where she was sat next to her, occasionally looking over at a computer screen.

"I don't like it," she admitted, her voice still hoarse.

"I'm sorry, Louise, but we need to do this," she smiled apologetically. "It's going to increase the blood flow. You're going to have three sessions of these a day." Louise did not answer her and looked back up at the television.

"Hey, Louise," came a voice to her left and Louise turned her head to see her mother standing there.

"Mom, get me out," she croaked, trying not to panic. She couldn't stop thinking about the well; about how she had said the very same thing to her mother so many times that she'd lost count. She never wanted to be in an enclosed space ever again.

"It's alright," Linda said, sitting down next to her daughter. "This is gonna help you; it's gonna make you better," she smiled comfortingly as she laid eyes on Louise's damaged limbs. She knew she had to remain calm, because if she panicked, then Louise surely would, and she was already anxious enough. "A few more of these and you're gonna be fine," she assured her.

"Mom, I don't like it in here," she told her, and Linda felt her stomach clench; as a mother, she wanted nothing more than to protect her children, but she couldn't do anything about this, and it hurt. It hurt to see her daughter like this.

"I know, sweetie," she soothed. "But it'll be over before you know it. Talk to me, about anything," she began to talk about mundane topics, trying to take Louise's mind off of being in the chamber. To her delight, it began to work, as Louise started talking to her.

To her relief, the session was finally over and she was removed from the tube. Her ears had popped again, but Louise didn't care. She was just glad to be out, she thought, as she was placed back on the gurney and taken back to her room.

Linda resumed her seat as Louise was placed back into her bed and covered over. She reached over onto the bedside table, and picked up Bakeneko, handed him to Louise, who took the toy and held him close.

“Where's Kuchi Kopi?” she asked. “They didn't leave him down there, did they?”

“No, they brought him up; he's right here,” Linda picked up Kuchi Kopi from the nightstand, and gave him to her daughter. Louise took the night light, glad to see it again. She noticed that her bedside table was full of cards, many of them handmade, bright and colourful, but some of them were store-bought.

“What are these?” she gestured to them, and Linda picked one up.

“These are get-well cards from your friends at school, sweetie,” she handed it to Louise, who examined the front. Instantly, she knew it was from Regular-sized Rudy; it had a drawing of the two of them hunting Burobu.

The others appeared to be from the rest of her class, but before she could look at them, Robin approached her.

“Okay, Louise,” Robin said, “we're just going to clean your back wounds.” She helped Louise sit up and parted her hospital gown. Again, the two nurses cleaned the pressure wounds, as they had done every morning, which were looking much better. Louise cringed as the saltwater solution touched the sores. Linda once again jumped in and started talking to Louise to distract her, and she hissed in pain every so often as she answered her mother.

"There you go," Robin smiled when they had finished, "all done."

"Yeah," said Louise quietly. "Mom, I'm thirsty," before Linda could blink, Lucy had popped up as if from nowhere with another cup of ice chips.

Despite all of the sleep she had recently had, Louise felt rather tired, and she rested back against her pillow, letting the empty glass be taken from her. Soon enough, she was asleep, with Bakeneko tucked under her arm, and Kuchi Kopi in her other hand.

Linda gently stroked her head, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. Seeing Louise awake and talking was such a relief that she almost felt like crying. It meant that she was improving; seeing her child lying in a hospital bed, too exhausted to even move, was one of the most horrible things in the world. But now, she was getting better.

While her daughter slept, Linda pulled a magazine out of her bag, moved to the chair in the corner, and began to read. After the first few days, they had quickly learnt to bring some form of entertainment with them, and to keep out of the nurses' way.

* * *

Back at the restaurant, it was 3pm, and so Bob switched the lights off, and locked the doors, heading for the car.

It had gotten less and less busy as the days went by, and Bob suspected it was because he didn't talk about Louise. The reason he suspected this was because every time someone stepped through the door, one of the first things out of their mouths was a question about Louise. Every time Bob simply answered, “she's okay,” and nothing else, their faces would drop, and most of them would not return the following day.

Still, the place had picked up a lot of business, which he was extremely grateful for. He was also grateful to Teddy for offering to help out once again; he had fared much better this time around.

Once Bob had collected Gene and Tina, they made their way to the hospital. Things had gone back to normal for them, as well; Tina had resumed trying to get Jimmy Jr to notice her, and Gene had gone back to constantly plinking away on his keyboard. Just like the customers, the students had left them alone now that the excitement was over and done with. Regular sized Rudy asked for daily updates about his friend, as, of course, did Millie. Both of the Belcher children were careful not to reveal anything telltale to Millie, lest she take it upon herself to 'help' Louise.

When Bob, Gene and Tina arrived, Louise and Linda were not there.

“Where are they?” Tina asked, looking at the empty bed.

“Louise has gone for a hearing test, and your mother went with her,” Lucy told them, adjusting some of the monitors around Louise's bed.

“Hearing test?” Bob looked confused, before remembering. “Oh, right, the drilling.”

“Is Louise going to go deaf?” asked Gene, as the three of them sat down by the bed.

“I don't know,” said Bob. “I'm sure she can hear, it's just listening to that for days on end must have done some damage.” Tina supposed that a partially deaf Louise was better than a fully deaf Louise, and so she said nothing. Gene remained quiet as well, he wasn't too concerned about the supposed lack of hearing; after all, hearing aids were invented for a reason, so there was really no reason for Louise to be too affected by this. Gene had to bite back a grin as he pictured Louise getting in trouble at school, and casually flicking her hearing aids off.

They couldn't ponder this for too long, however, as Louise and Linda returned, accompanied by Cabell and a man they did not know.

Louise's face broke into a big smile when she saw the rest of her family, and her siblings rushed over to hug her. Bob followed and hugged her gently when Gene and Tina had let go.

Linda turned to her family as Louise was taken off the gurney and placed back into her bed.

“There's moderate hearing loss,” she said to Bob, “and they won't know yet whether she'll need hearing aids.”

“Well, we can manage that,” said Bob, as Cabell approached them.

“So, according to our results, Louise has something called bilateral hearing loss in both ears,” he began. “Hers is asymmetrical, which means that there's better hearing in one ear than the other. She has a 40% loss in her right ear, and a 60% loss in her left. Now, there are problems that come with this type of hearing loss.”

“Like what?” asked Bob.

“Some people have trouble telling where sounds come from, some can't understand speech when there's lots of background noise. With Louise, we won't be able to tell right away, as we would need to see her in those environments. However, if the need arises, she can always be fitted with hearing aids.”

“Okay,” Bob couldn't see Louise agreeing to that, but he kept quiet as they took seats around Louise's bed.

When Louise had been situated in her bed again, Cabell, along with the other man, approached her.

“Hello, Louise,” Cabell smiled. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Little bit,” answered Louise. “When can I go home?”

“I'm afraid that won't be for a while; you're going to need to build up your strength first, and we're going to start now. This is Bradley Anderson; he's a physical therapist. We're just going to do a few exercises that'll help you.”

Bradley Anderson, a rather short man with dark hair and a matching beard sat down on Louise's right side.

“Now, Louise, the first thing I'd like you to do is flex your fingers,” he began, focusing his eyes on Louise's hands. Louise didn't say anything, and instead looked at her hands. The fingers were curled into loose fists, and they didn't seem to want to move, and so Louise found it rather difficult. It took a while, but she managed to stretch her fingers out, it had hurt, but now the pain had stopped. “Great,” Anderson grinned, “now, can you curl them back up again?” Louise didn't really see the point, but she silently complied.

After she had done that a few more times, Anderson got Louise to then flex and turn her wrists, before beginning an exercise that was called “swing the pendulum.” “What you do for this, is you gently let the arm hang over the side of the bed, and slowly start to rotate your hand, first one way, and then the other, for about thirty seconds each way.” Louise had to stop less than ten seconds in because it hurt so much. She felt really embarrassed, but the therapist said nothing, and neither did her family. She wished they weren't all there, watching her. “It's all right,” Anderson assured her, “we'll take a rest for a few seconds, and then we'll carry on; it'll take some time to get used to it.”

While Louise was struggling with her first round of physical therapy, Linda had left the hospital, and made her way over to the fire station. She entered through the double doors, and made her way to the reception area, where a young woman was sitting behind the desk.

“Can I help you, ma'am?” she smiled.

“Yes, I'm looking for Patrick... Baker, and Simon Landon,” Linda struggled to remember their names for a moment, but the lady didn't mind. “I'd like to speak with them, and thank them.”

“One moment, please,” she said as she rose gracefully from her seat, and left through a side door. When she left, Linda wandered about the room, looking around her. It was a large room with tiled flooring; there were two sofas against one side, with a small coffee table bearing a vase of flowers, and several fluorescent ceiling lights made the room look very bright and cold.

The receptionist returned just them, with two men following her. Patrick and Simon recognised Linda immediately, and they both approached her, looking happy. They both looked a lot less stressed out since she had last seen them.

“Hello!” Patrick grinned, and Linda just had to pull them into a hug.

“I just wanted to thank you again for what you did,” she said, trying not to cry.

“We're just glad she got out of there,” said Simon.

“Louise is feeling better now,” Linda told them, “so if you wanted, you both could come and see her some time; I'm sure she'd like to thank you herself.”

“Well, we'd love to,” said Patrick. “I'm not sure just when right now, but we'll definitely come and see her.”

“That's great,” Linda smiled.

“We'd like to bring her a little gift. Is there anything she really likes?” asked Simon, and Linda looked a little taken aback.

“No, you don't have to...” she began but she was cut off by Simon.

“But we'd like to. What does she like?” Linda had to think for a moment.

“Anything Japanese,” she said; Louise had been a fan of Japanese culture, TV shows, and movies for years. She didn't know how it started, but it seemed there was no stopping her. Louise knew how you had to act in Japan, and where all the major anime theme parks were located, and what characters were there. She even knew a few phrases in Japanese.

“Japanese, okay,” Patrick made a mental note of it.

Both men were unable to visit that day, so the three made arrangements for them to come on Monday or Tuesday.

“Great!” beamed Linda, pulling them into a hug once more. “We'll see you then!”

* * *

While Linda was out, Louise was again taken to the hyperbaric chamber; Bob accompanied her this time.

Louise shook her head when she was, again, placed on the table that would put her inside the chamber.

“I know you don't like it,” said Robin, “but this is something that we need to do.”

“You've already done it once,” said Louise. “Do you really have to do it again?”

“Yes, we do; the more sessions you have, the faster you will heal.” Robin noticed the little girl's apprehension. “Would you like to choose a DVD to watch?” she asked.

“...Maybe,” perhaps a distraction would be good, Louise thought. Robin gestured to a pile of DVD's that were lying on a nearby table, and Louise lifted her head, struggling to see them.

“We've got _Charlotte's Web,_ we've got _The Secret Garden,_ we've got all the Disney classics, and there's things like _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, The Wizard of Oz, The Never Ending Story...”_

“Do you have any Hawk and Chick?” she asked. Seeing the father and daughter fighting the seaweed monster would be just what she needed.

“Afraid not, and we have to stick to the age ratings,” Robin told her, and Louise frowned; that meant she couldn't watch any of the good ones, and she was stuck with – bleh – boring old Disney.

“Fine, _The Never Ending Story,”_ she said, as Robin picked up the movie, and her bed was slid into the chamber. At least the wolf was cool, and so was the Rock Biter.  
  


Although Louise enjoyed the movie, and it certainly helped to calm her down a bit, she still did not like going into the chamber.

“That wasn't too bad, was it?” chirped Bob as he walked alongside Louise's bed as they went back to his room.

“I don't like it in there,” Louise said, which made Bob's face fall.

“I'm sorry,” he said, “but it has to be done.”

“I know, I still don't like it.” Once Louise was back in her bed, her siblings sat around her, and the three of them began to talk. They talked about anything and everything; their favourite comic books, games, television shows, amongst other things; it was almost like Louise had been away at camp for a week, and now they were catching up.

The room had a television in the upper corner, which was switched on and still tuned to the news, and even though the family had been too focused on Louise to talk to the press, there had been quite a few stories about her since the previous week. Many local and national journalists were still waiting for an update on her condition. Bob and Linda knew about this, but they were going to stick with their idea of letting Louise decide whether or not she wanted to talk to the press.

“So, Louise,” Bob began as he sat down next to his daughter, “there are reporters who want to talk to you. Do you wanna talk to them?”

“Reporters?” Louise looked confused.

“Yeah, they were filming the rescue, and they want -” but Louise cut him off.

“What?! Why were reporters there?”

“Because lots of people were interested in what was happening, sweetie,” said Linda, but Louise did not look impressed.

“Well, that's stupid; why didn't you make them leave?”

“We were too busy focusing on you; that was all we cared about,” said Bob. Louise did not have an answer for that, and so Bob asked her again. “So, do you want to talk to them?”

“About what?”

“Well, what it was like down there, how you felt, what it was like to be rescued, that kind of stuff.”

“Uh, that sounds really dumb.”

“Like I said, it's up to you, so if you ever do want to, let us know.”

“Maybe,” said Louise. “It would be cool to be on TV.” She paused for a moment. “Okay, whatever.”

Linda smiled and hugged her once again.

“I feel like everything's gonna be okay!” she beamed.

That statement was the first thing that popped into Linda's head when Cabell beckoned her and Bob outside before dinner was to be served. That was odd; he usually told them everything they needed to know right there in the room. So, she was a little worried, as she and Bob followed him into the hall.

“Mr and Mrs Belcher, as you know we have been treating Louise for potential gangrene, and yesterday, we took a blood test. The results have come back, and I'm afraid Louise has gangrene.” Bob and Linda's jaw dropped, and they turned to each other.

“What?” Linda placed a hand over her mouth.

“I thought you said that it wouldn't develop!”

“We thought so; it doesn't normally take this long to show up. But she has it, and so, we need to amputate.” Hearing that word made Bob's knees buckle.

“Oh, no!” he gasped, as Linda held him, looking close to tears herself.

“The good news is, the gangrene is just in her toes, in both feet, and if we amputate quickly, there's a lesser chance of it spreading. So, what we're going to do is a transmetatarsal amputation, where we remove the tops of the feet.”

“Oh, no.” Linda shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing.

“It won't affect her walking; she'll be able to walk normally, and there are special shoe fillers that can help with her balance.” Cabell paused, letting Bob and Linda take everything. It was a lot to deal with. “If it's okay with you, we can book her in for tomorrow morning,” he suggested, and they both nodded, looking fraught. It was awful, but it had to be done.

“Oh, God, how are we gonna tell her?” said Bob, burying his face in his hand. This wasn't going to be easy, and he didn't want to tell her, but she deserved to know.

“Perhaps, given her age, it might be better to -” Cabell began, but Bob cut him off.

“No, no. We can't just knock her out and amputate; she'd never trust us again. No, we've gotta tell her.”

Taking a deep breath, he took Linda's hand, and the three of them went back into the room. Linda momentarily debated sending Gene and Tina out, but they deserved to know what was going to happen to their sister. “So, Louise?” began Bob hesitantly, as he sat down next to her.

“Yeah?”

“You – you know you've had some surgery, right?”

“Yeah,” Louise put down Kuchi Kopi, and looked at him.

“Well, you need to have another one tomorrow.” He instantly saw the flash of fear in her eyes, that was quickly replaced by anger.

“I don't think so.”

“Louise, baby, this is something that needs to be done,” said Linda gently.

“Well, what is it, 'cause I feel fine, so nothing needs to be done!” Bob paused before answering.

“You have... gangrene,” judging from Louise's confused expression, she didn't know what it was. Neither did Gene and Tina, due to their similar faces.

“What's that?” Bob paused again; he didn't know how to explain it, but luckily Cabell stepped in.

“It's when your body tissue dies, because of blood loss. The blood in your feet hasn't been circulating properly, and so your toes don't have any blood flow.” Louise stared at him, remembering her blackened toes. “We've done our best to get the blood flowing again, but I'm afraid that we need to amputate.” Louise's eyes widened.

“No!” she shouted, sitting up straight, unable to do anything else. “You're not cutting anything off!” She grabbed her empty glass, and threw it to the ground, causing to shatter. She grabbed another glass, and was about to throw it before Bob grabbed her arm. “Get off!” she hissed, trying to wrench herself free, but her father held tight. “You can't let them do this!” she screamed, her voice cracking and going hoarse, slapping Bob's arm, trying to make him see sense and let her go.

“It needs to be done, Louise,” Bob choked, trying not to cry. Louise opened her mouth, but her voice had gone, so she continued hitting her father. Bob wasn't angry with her; he knew she was upset and afraid.

“Louise,” said Cabell gently. “If we don't do this, your toes will fall off anyway,” Louise stopped hitting and stared at him. “But then the gangrene would spread further up your legs, and then we would have to amputate them.”

“It'll be perfectly safe, sweetie, and you won't feel a thing,” Linda assured her.

“It's called a transmetatarsal amputation, and we're just going to remove the tops of your feet. You'll be able to walk just as you did before, and do all the things you used to do.” Louise shook her head, her face scrunched up in anger. “I'm sorry, Louise, but there's no other way. This has to be done,” Cabell said before he left the room. Linda took Louise's hand and sat down next to her.

“It'll be okay, baby,” she soothed, but Louise, yanking her hand away, stared straight ahead and refused to acknowledge her.

By the time Bob had to take Gene and Tina home, Louise had still not spoken a word. She sat in her bed, arms folded, glaring straight ahead. She didn't even react when Gene and Tina said goodbye to her, nor when Bob kissed her on the cheek. “Come on, Louise,” said Linda. “I know you don't want to have it done, but we wouldn't do it if it wasn't necessary.” Louise continued to ignore her and scowled heavily. Linda sighed. “You'll be fine; I promise, and we'll all be there for you.” Louise still didn't answer her. “Okay, try and get some sleep, baby,” she said, stroking Louise's forehead with her thumb, just above her eyebrow, continuing to do so until Louise's eyelids began to droop against her will. It had always soothed her to sleep when she was a baby, and Linda was glad to see that it still worked. When Louise had eventually settled back against her pillows, Linda removed her hand, and moved back, allowing her daughter to get some rest.

* * *

When Bob and the children arrived home, it was another silent affair for them. Even when he switched the radio on in the car, as a way to drown out the deafening silence, it still seemed too quiet. Tina didn't even say anything when the latest Boyz 4 Now song was played.

Bob was still trying to fully process what was going to happen to his youngest child the following day.

Almost in a daze, he set about making dinner, while Gene and Tina remained in the living room, watching television. Neither of them spoke; instead, they just stared at the cartoons that were playing.

In the middle of dinner, Tina spoke, breaking the silence that had been hanging over them ever since they had left the hospital.

“Does Louise have to have her feet cut off?” she asked quietly, not looking up from her plate.

“No; just her toes,” said Bob, swallowing down the bile he felt rising from the back of his throat. Okay, he knew it had to be done, but it didn't stop him from feeling awful about it.

“She's gonna have feet like a Barbie doll!” Gene gasped, his jaw dropping with the realisation.

“Gene.”

“But, she'll be okay?” asked Tina, looking worried.

“Of course she will,” said Bob, nodding a bit too vigorously. “She'll be fine. It's Louise; she's always fine.” Gene and Tina looked at one another. “Are you all finished?” he asked, and they nodded. “Okay, well, then, why don't you go to bed, and get an early night? Tomorrow morning, we'll all go down to see Louise.”

“But what about school?” asked Gene.

“Well, if we have time, I'll take you after they wheel her down to surgery. If not... well, Louise needs us with her.”

His children merely nodded and headed off to their respective rooms.

* * *

That first night in the ICU (Louise counted it as her first night, since it was the first one she remembered) was something Louise would never forget. The room was brightly lit, all of the machines around her were beeping and clicking, the IV's were bothering her, she couldn't get comfortable because she had to sleep on her back, her ankle felt weird in its splint, there were too many pillows, and the nurses' shoes tapped as they went about their business. Not to mention her mother's snoring as she dozed on a little camp bed in the corner.

Louise lay back on her pillow, stared at the ceiling and sighed. She wasn't getting to sleep tonight.

She didn't know how long she lay there, staring at the stark white ceiling, but she knew it was for at least a couple of hours. Every time her eyes began to close, there was something to keep her awake; the nurses' talking quietly to one another, the rustling of the drip bag, the ache in her ankle, or a particularly loud snore from Linda. Louise was the kind of person who needed silence and almost complete darkness to get to sleep, neither of which she had. She groaned and brought her hands up to cover her face. The noise was the worst part; she could block out the light; she could burrow under the blanket, she could place something over her eyes, but she couldn't block out the noise.

“What's the matter?” Robin came over to her, speaking quietly.

“It's too bright and noisy,” she complained, not removing her hands from her face.

“I'm sorry, honey. Is there anything we can do to help you?”

“Turn these stupid machines off!” she insisted, parting her fingers so she could look up at the nurse.

“I'm afraid we can't do that; these machines are letting us know that you're okay. But we can dim the lights, will that help?”

“Maybe,” the little girl resumed staring at the ceiling, as the lights began to fade. It wasn't helping, but she closed her eyes anyway, unable to do anything about it.

It took several hours, but she was able to fall into a restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done! What did you think?  
> We're officially at the halfway point of this story.  
> The next chapter should hopefully be up next Friday.
> 
> I recently watched "Motor She Boat," and I noticed that the Fire Captain was called Davis! I thought that was pretty cool.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all, I'm back with another chapter for you. I hope you enjoy reading.

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 9

Bob, Gene, and Tina arrived at the hospital the next morning just as as the doctor was finishing up with Louise, who was sat up in bed, looking furious as Linda was standing next to her.

“Hey, Louise,” Bob grinned, trying to be cheerful, but Louise was obviously still in a mood, as she only scowled in response. She had a see-through, sticker-type piece of material on the back of her left hand, which was placed over the numbing cream she had received prior.

Before he could say anything else, Dr Cabell, and another man approached him, and Linda came over.

“Good morning, Mr and Mrs Belcher,” smiled the man. “My name is Dr Clarke, and I'm an anaesthesiologist; I'll be supervising the surgery today, and I just wanted to tell you a little bit about what's going to happen. I've already informed Louise, and so if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask. Now, we will be taking Louise down to the operating room shortly, where she will be put under general anaesthetic. The surgery is expected to last for a little over two hours, and when we're done, Louise will be taken to the recovery room, and when she's stable, you will be able to see her.” He paused. “Now, there are risks involved, as with any type of surgery. She may bleed more than usual; the blood could collect under the skin and form haematoma. There is also the risk of infection, and the risk of blood clots, but rest assured, we will do our best to prevent these from happening.” Bob and Linda naturally looked quite worried now, so he continued. “About two or three days after the operation, your physical therapist will come by and begin teaching Louise things like how to sit up, how to move into a chair, those kinds of things. Do you have any questions?” Bob and Linda only stared at him. “Right,” Clarke nodded, “well, if there's no questions, then we'll take Louise down to theatre now.”

The family stood back as a scowling Louise was taken off her bed, and placed onto a gurney, and wheeled out of the room. Then, they followed the bed as it was wheeled through the hallways, not unlike when she was first admitted.

When they reached the operating room, however, they had to separate and go and wait in the waiting room.

Louise remained silent as she was brought into the operating room. Her demeanour soon changed; the room was bright and cold and, much as she didn't want to admit it, frightening. The doctors, nurses and other hospital workers were all talking to her, but she wasn't listening.

Her breath quickened as surgeons dressed in scrubs leaned over her, and she struggled to sit up. She had to get away.

“It's okay, sweetheart,” came a disembodied voice, “you'll be fine.” Louise could not place who was speaking and she looked around, sweat beading on her forehead.

Her hospital gown was lowered at the neckline, and she felt something cold and sticky being placed on her chest. The light above her was bright, and was only dimmed when a surgeon would stand in front of it. The light coming from behind them meant that she could only see black shapes. Just several different black shapes moving around her, talking. Their masks meant that she couldn't place who was talking; the voices sounded like they were coming from all around her.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced them open when she heard the squeaking of wheels, and she looked over to her left, seeing a table full of medical equipment.

The surgeons appeared to be closing in around her, just a mass of shadows and shapes, and Louise felt her left arm being lifted. Someone was talking to her, but she didn't know who it was, or what they were saying. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the flash of a needle, and batted it away out of instinct, with surprisingly quick reflexes.

“All right, calm down,” came a voice from somewhere above her, as one of the shapes left the room. Someone was still holding her left arm, gently but firmly, and there was another hand on her right shoulder. She tried to wriggle away, but they maintained their hold on her. The voices and shapes were still talking to her when the shape returned, followed by two more of them.

“Louise?” she stopped fidgeting. That was her father's voice. “Louise, it's okay,” he said, barely able to look at her; she looked so helpless and afraid. Her eyes were wide, her hands were clenched into fists, and she was sweating. He took one of her hands, as Linda took the other, and a surgeon approached her holding a mask.

He was just about to place it over her mouth and nose when Louise jerked her head to the side. Someone moved it back and gently held it whilst the mask was put into place. She didn't feel the new needle be pressed into her hand.

“Louise, I'm gonna need you to start counting backwards from 100. Can you do that for me?” Despite her best efforts, Louise couldn't get the mask off of her, and she was starting to feel tired.

“Please don't cut my toes off,” Louise begged before everything went black.

* * *

As soon as Louise had been put under, Bob and Linda had to leave. They returned to the waiting room, looking rather ill.

“What happened?” asked Gene, sitting with Tina, both of them looking worried.

“She knocked the needle out of their hand,” said Bob. He felt a strange mixture of pride and worry.

“Wow,” said Tina, looking slightly impressed.

“She was really freaked out,” Bob looked upset now. “But she'll be okay now.” He and Linda sat down next to their children.

Just as before, they had nothing to do but wait. And as before, there were magazines and the television, but they soon lost their appeal for Gene and Tina. They had already read the magazines twice, and there was only a choice of the news or soap operas on the television.

“I don't feel like sitting around and waiting,” said Gene.

“Yeah, can we go and look around?” Tina asked, figuring that it would make the waiting easier.

“Can we, Mom, can we?” Gene had risen to his feet.

“No,” Linda said. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“But, Mom, we only wanna look around; we're not gonna go anywhere,” Tina argued.

“Please, Mom?”

“Oh, alright,” Linda softened. “But don't leave the hospital, okay?”

Eager for the chance to stretch their legs and do a bit of exploring, the children left.

Although Gene and Tina had been forbidden to leave the premises, they still managed to enjoy themselves while wandering around a hospital.

First, they went to the cafeteria, where they wrote down all kinds of crazy food and drink inventions for the suggestion box; Gene filled out several sheets of his personal preference of chocolate chip cookie pizza, and Tina wrote that ice cream dispensers and soda fountains were needed. They helped themselves to sugar and salt packets and mixed them into whatever liquids they could find to see what the results were. Naturally, the pastes that were formed were placed strategically on chairs and tables.

As they walked down a hallway, Tina was too busy ogling all of the doctor's butts to notice that Gene had found an abandoned wheelchair.

“Get in!” he cried, and Tina did so. Gene began sprinting as fast as he could, jumping onto the back and they zoomed down the hall. They almost crashed into a trolley filled with medication, but they didn't let that deter them. They got right back up and did it again, this time with Tina pushing Gene. She found it difficult, with her lack of arm strength, but her brother didn't seem to mind.

The children appeared to have gone wild; they acted in ways they had never done before.

They would 'accidentally' hit the buttons on the elevators as they walked past; Tina attempted to flirt with several nurses and doctors', much to Gene's embarrassment. It was soon Tina's turn to be embarrassed when Gene found a hospital gown and stripped down to his underwear to model it.

Gene flounced down the hallway as if it were a catwalk, stopping every so often to strike a pose. Many patients and visitors were watching with amusement, and Tina groaned.

They could honestly say they had never had so much fun in a hospital; they hid in the waiting room and acted as the “Voice of Doom,” whenever a patient's name was announced; Gene chewed on seemingly every single pen in the place; they randomly removed items from trolleys, and they rolled up old magazines and had sword fights with them instead.

All of these childish silly pranks were just what the siblings needed to get their minds off Louise, and it worked tremendously.

* * *

The kids' arrived back at the waiting room at the same time as Dr Cabell; Bob and Linda were slightly confused, because the surgery wasn't supposed to be this quick.

“Mr and Mrs Belcher, I'm just informing you that the surgery is going to take a little longer than usual,” he told them.

“Why?”

“We have to be very careful with Louise's ankle; it's still broken, and we don't want to impede the healing process, so we have to work slowly.” With that, the doctor turned and left, and the children sat down.

“So, what did you do?” asked Bob.

“Oh, nothing much,” said Gene casually, “just wandered around, got some water. Oh,” he presented Bob and Linda with two bottles of cold water, which they accepted. “And, you know, just explored the place.”

“Hm,” Bob knew that his son wasn't being truthful, but he decided to let it go this one time.

In the end, what should have been a two-hour procedure ended up lasting for more than three, and when Cabell returned, he took Bob and Linda to the recovery room, while Gene and Tina, again, had to remain in the waiting room.

Just as before, the parents followed the doctor down the halls to the recovery room.

“The surgery went well,” he told them. “There were no complications.” He stood aside and allowed Bob and Linda to enter the room first.

This time, Louise was in a bed down at the very end of the ward, and they approached her silently. Linda covered her mouth and tears filled her eyes when she saw her daughter. Her nose and mouth were covered by an oxygen mask, and she was again hooked up to various machines.

Linda slowly lifted the bottom of the blanket and looked at her daughter's elevated legs. She almost cried.

Louise's stumps were wrapped up, and there were thin tubes in them to drain excess fluid. Her legs were in braces to prevent her from bending them. A tear slid down the mother's cheek, and she felt horrible for crying. Because this was going to save her child's life, so why was she upset? “Louise should be able to go back to her room when she's awake and stable,” said Cabell quietly. “We'll be keeping her under observation for a few days, to make sure the gangrene hasn't spread. If it has, she'll have to come back to surgery. But, she's doing well. She'll need to remain in hospital for at least two weeks, as we'll need to make a start on physical therapy, and also fit her for some inserts.” He stepped back and allowed them to tend to their child.

Linda approached one side of the bed, while Bob came up to the other, and they both took their daughter's hands. Bob had to be careful to not knock the pulse oximeter on the middle finger of her right hand. She looked so small, lying there on the bed, an IV in one arm, a blood pressure cuff wrapped around her other arm, surrounded by machines.

“My poor baby,” Linda whispered, leaning over to kiss her daughter's forehead.

Eventually, they had to leave her, and they returned to the waiting room, where Gene and Tina practically pounced on them.

“How is she? Is she okay?” asked Gene, bouncing on his feet.

“She's okay; the surgery went well,” said Linda, sweeping him up in a tight hug.

“She doesn't have any toes?” asked Tina, and Linda shook her head.

“No, but she'll be fine. She'll be able to walk normally, but she's gonna have to stay here for two more weeks, and she'll need physical therapy.”

“We can help her with that,” said Tina, nodding, as they sat down.

“Yeah, we can. We will,” said Bob.

* * *

After a few more hours, the Belchers' were then escorted back to Louise's room, where she was sleeping in her bed.

“She's already woken up, back on the ward,” Cabell told them, as they gathered around the bed. “The anaesthesia is wearing off, and she'll wake up properly in a few more hours.”

“Will you need to amputate any more?” asked Gene, looking up at the doctor.

“Hopefully not. Within the next couple of days, we should be able to tell whether or not the gangrene has spread. If everything's fine, she'll be able to go home soon.”

“Yay,” said Tina. Cabell smiled at her, before turning to Bob and Linda.

“I just want to let you know, Louise may suffer from something known as ICU psychosis. It's quite common.”

“ICU psychosis, what's that?” Linda had never heard of it before, nor had Bob.

“It's known as delirium; a combination of the medication, the pain, sleep deprivation, stress, and it can cause aggression, anxiety, paranoia, even hallucinations.” 

“You think Louise is going to get that?” asked Bob.

“It's very likely; most intensive care patients experience it; more so after a major surgery.”

“Well, how come she didn't have it before?” asked Linda.

“We believe that it was because she spent most of her time asleep. She wasn't aware of where she was. If she does experience the psychosis, then we can treat her for that.”

“How?”

“We can give her some medication to help her sleep, keep her on a schedule, just keep her oriented. It can look pretty frightening, but it's nothing to be alarmed at.”

Louise did not awaken until the evening. Bob and Linda were sitting at her bedside when they saw her stirring.

“Hi, sweetie,” Linda whispered, taking her hand as Louise's eyes slowly opened. “How are you feeling?” Louise didn't answer her and looked up at the ceiling.

“Hey, Louise,” said Gene, from her other side, and Louise slowly turned her head to look over at him. Tina waved at her, but Louise didn't seem to see any of them.

“Louise?” said Bob quietly, and his daughter looked back up at the ceiling.

“Dad?” came her hoarse voice.

“Yeah, it's me,” he said. Louise made to look over at him, but she paused. “Louise?” Bob noticed that she was staring straight ahead, at the foot of her bed. He followed her gaze and saw what she was looking at; her stumps. Her face crumpled briefly, before her expression hardened. “Louise?”

“Why did you let them do it?” she asked, the fog in her mind beginning to clear. Now she knew where she was, and what had been done.

“They had to do it, baby,” said Linda.

“They didn't.”

“It's for the best,” said Bob. “If there was any other option, we would have taken it, but this had to be done.”

“You didn't have to do this,” she still wasn't looking at them, and Linda saw tears in her eyes. She gently squeezed her daughter's hand; she knew that Louise wasn't ready to listen to what they had to say. She was upset, and that was fine; anybody would be.

Louise remained silent as she continued staring at her stumps, and so did her family. None of them could think of what to say that would make her feel better.

Dr Cabell came back in and stood next to Bob and Linda.

“Hello, Louise, how are you feeling?” Louise turned her head away and resolutely stared at the ceiling. “Are you in any pain?” he continued, and the child still ignored him. “If you are, be sure to let us know so that we can give you some painkillers. So, in a few days, Dr Anderson will come by and start a little bit of physical therapy with you, so we can start you walking again. And in about two weeks, we'll be able to start fitting you for either prosthetics or inserts. Can you hear me, Louise?”

Louise could hear, but she didn't want to speak. She didn't like the sound of prosthetics. She had a vision of ugly, wooden toes glued on to the ends of her feet, and it made her want to lash out.

“No,” she muttered, still not looking at him. 

“No what? Prosthetics?” he asked, and she nodded curtly after a moment. “I can promise you that there's nothing to worry about. Prosthetics are really high-tech; they got some really great ones now. But we don't need to worry about that just yet; we'll just focus on getting you better.” Louise continued to stare at the ceiling.

“When can I go home?”

“In about two weeks,” he told her. “You're improving well, and once you're able to walk, then you'll be able to go home.”

* * *

Louise barely spoke for the rest of the evening, even though her family kept talking to her. When her dinner arrived, she pushed it away, staring at the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge anyone.

“Louise, sweetie, you need to eat,” said Linda, pushing the tray back towards her daughter, who ignored it. “You gotta build up your strength, baby.”

“Yeah, Louise,” said Bob. “We want you to come home as soon as possible, but you can't do that if you don't eat.” She muttered something unintelligible. “What's that?”

“I hate you,” she said quietly. Bob felt like he had been hit by a train.

“What did you say?”

“I said I hate you!” she finally looked at him, blinking rapidly, her hands balled into fists. “You didn't have to let them do this! You could have done something but you didn't! You let them do this to me! I hate you; I hate you all!”

“Okay,” Robin quickly bustled over and gestured for them to stand. “I think it might be best if we let Louise get some rest. Come back later tonight, yes?”

Before the family left the room, they looked back at Louise.

“We love you, baby,” said Linda, looking close to tears, as Bob, Gene and Tina chimed in with affirmations. Louise didn't answer them, nor did she even glance in their direction, and so they left.

“Louise,” Robin took a seat. “I know you're upset, but that wasn't very nice, was it?”

“This is not very nice!” Louise snapped, gesturing to her stumps.

“I understand how you must be feeling,” she said calmly, “but this wasn't a rash decision; this was something we all had to think about. Ever since you came here, we've all been working very hard to try and get rid of the gangrene, but we couldn't do it, so this was our only option.”

“Well, this – this was... You could have done something else!”

“We really couldn't have. Come on, try and eat something, and then you can have a little rest. I know this is all really sudden for you, and it'll take some time to adjust, but your family love you, and they'll be there for you every step of the way.” That didn't make Louise feel any better at all; she was still angry at her parents; they could have told the doctor no. “You need to eat,” Robin gently prompted when Louise resumed picking at her food.

“I'm not hungry,” she muttered, pushing the tray away once more, and lying back against her pillows.

* * *

Both Bob and Linda were fighting back tears as they made their way out of the hospital.

“She didn't mean it,” Bob choked, holding his wife's hand tightly. Louise had only ever said she hated them once, and that was when her cavity was causing her pain. This time was no different.

“I know,” said Linda. “She's afraid and upset. I can't imagine how hard this must be for her.”

“She'll get through this, Lin.”

“Does Louise hate us now?” asked Gene as they left the hospital.

“No, she doesn't, Gene,” said Bob. “She's just angry right now; she'll calm down soon.” At least, he hoped she would.

That night, when their kids were in bed, Bob and Linda sat in the living room, talking before Bob was due to go back to the hospital.

“I hope she'll be okay tonight,” Linda was saying.

“She will be,” said Bob. “I bet she'll be asleep by the time I get there.”

“But, Bobby, what if she gets that psychosis thing?”

“Well, you heard the doctor, Lin; they can give her stuff to manage it. I mean, she might not even get it.”

“But if she does? Oh, Bobby, I don't think I can bear my baby going through that.” Linda looked close to tears, and so Bob placed his arm around her.

“Listen, Lin,” he began, “this psychosis thing isn't dangerous. The doctor said that we just gotta let her sleep. That's the most important thing. Louise has already been through so much; she can manage this, as well.”

“You're right, Bobby,” Linda looked up at her husband. “It'll take more than that to bring down our baby! Give her a kiss from me,” she said as Bob stood up and grabbed his jacket. He kissed her on the cheek, before leaving the apartment.

* * *

Louise was, again, having difficulty sleeping. This time, it was because she was in quite a lot of pain. A _lot_ lot of pain. She had expected her feet to hurt, but not her stomach. It was weird; they had done surgery on her feet, so why was her stomach hurting? Unless... her eyes widened slightly. Unless they had performed a sneaky surgery on her stomach for some strange reason. Louise couldn't think why they would do that, though. It was driving her crazy, and Louise lifted the blanket to see what they had done to her. Before she checked, it dawned on her; they had obviously removed her liver! Of course! She would have been unaware and unable to do anything due to the anaesthetic; it was the perfect crime!

But when she lifted the blanket, and her nightgown, she found only a small patch of dressing, with a thin tube protruding from it, and she frowned in confusion. Curious, she pressed down on her stomach next to the dressing, and immediately regretted it. Pain coursed through her body, and she cringed, screwing up her face and clenching her fists.

“Hey, what is this?” she called to the nearby nurse, when the pain had subsided.

“What?” asked Lucy, and Louise pointed to the tube. “It's called a catheter.”

“Well, I don't like it. What's it for?” Louise tried to be her usual self; she couldn't let the nurses know that she was onto them.

“It's so you can go to the bathroom without getting up.”

“What?!” Louise hadn't expected that. “Why do I need it?”

“Well, you've just had major surgery, plus you have a broken ankle. It's going to be difficult for you to get up and move about. We put this in last week, when you couldn't wake up. When you're able to stand, we'll take it out.”

Louise wasn't sure if she believed the nurse; it was too easy. She was sure they had taken out her liver. She knew that the patch of dressing was covering up stitches, and she reached down, and tried to peel one corner back.

“Oh, no,” came Lucy's voice, her hand gently closing over Louise's. “You mustn't do that.”

“I just wanna see.”

“No, Louise. It's fine.” Louise replaced the blanket and huffed. She heard Lucy telling her to try and sleep, but she didn't want to. For one, she was in too much pain, and, two, if she fell asleep, what if they did more surgery on her? What else would they take? Her kidneys? Her lungs? Besides, she kind of wanted her parents to see her in pain; then they would realise that the surgery was a bad idea, and it should never have been done. That would show them.

She was still awake when Bob arrived, a little after 9pm.

“Louise, what are you still doing up?” he asked, sitting down next to her bed. She was tired, he could tell by the bags under her eyes.

“I'm not tired,” she lied. Bob knew she was lying, but he decided not to mention this.

“Are you in any pain?” he asked, and she shook her head, again lying. “You're not? That's great. You should try and get some sleep, then.” He paused, noticing the look she was giving him, like she didn't trust him. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. Why do you all want me to sleep so badly?”

“Because you're a little girl, you've had surgery, and you're tired,” Bob pointed out.

“I'm not tired! It's just...” Louise paused, wondering if she could trust him. She felt like he knew about the plan to take her kidneys, but he was her dad; he should put a stop to it. But he had already let them take her liver. Well, maybe she could get him to stop them from taking her kidneys.

“What is it?” he asked, and Louise leaned toward him.

“They took my liver,” she whispered, her eyes wide.

“What?” Bob knew from the look on her face that she was completely serious, and he had no idea how she had come to that conclusion. “Your liver? Who took it?”

“You know; the doctor. When they did the surgery, they took it out.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Because there's a tube in my tummy.”

“Well, yeah; you can't walk, so this is so you can pee. I promise you, your liver is still there.” It was at that moment, that Louise knew her dad was in on it, too, and she laid back against her pillows. She couldn't believe he would allow them to do this to her. But then, she thought; he had allowed them to cut her toes off, so what else would he agree to?

She couldn't allow herself to fall asleep, nor could she let anyone else know that she knew. The only thing that she could do was stay awake.

“That makes sense; I guess I was just being silly,” she lied, giving a little, reassuring smile to her dad. “I guess I'll go to sleep now; goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” said Bob, pressing the button next to the bed so that it reclined. Louise turned her head away from him, and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep.

Once again, the lights were dimmed, making it difficult for the little girl to stay awake. She was sure to keep her eyes slightly open for as long as she could, fighting against the sleep that threatened to take over. When Bob thought she was asleep, he gestured to the nurse, and jerked his head towards the door. Robin followed him outside, while Lucy remained in the room.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Louise seems to think you took out her liver.” Bob couldn't believe what he was saying. “Why would she think that?” He was genuinely confused.

“It's more than likely the medication making her a little bit loopy,” Robin told him. “And sleep deprivation is a possibility, as well.”

“So, she doesn't have that psycho thingy?”

“Well, sir; it's quite possible that she is experiencing a little bit of delirium. I think sleep will help her. We'll see how she is tomorrow; if she's not improved, then we can start treating her for it.”

Bob nodded, and they both headed back into the room. Louise was still pretending to be asleep, and Bob approached her quietly. Louise quickly closed her eyes and tried to act natural. He stroked the lock of hair that peeked out from her hat.

“Love you, baby,” he whispered, before leaning down and giving her a kiss on the temple. “That's from your mother,” he said, before moving away and lying down on the camp bed.

When Louise was sure that he was asleep, when her dad started snoring, she opened her eyes. She kept still, her eyes focused on her blanket, as she did not want the nurses to see that she was awake. She didn't really have a plan; just to stay awake all night so the nurses couldn't take any more of her organs.

She didn't believe that it would be that difficult; even though she was quite tired, the pain was doing an excellent job of keeping her awake. The leg braces were very uncomfortable, not to mention the tube in her stomach. Oh, and the fact that they stole her liver.

Despite her best attempts, Louise fell asleep in the very early hours of the morning.

* * *

She awoke at 6:30, after less than three hours of sleep, when the nurses were moving her onto a gurney. She looked around, confused, as they began to wheel her out of the room.

“Wh-where are you taking me?” she asked groggily.

“Just for your oxygen therapy treatment,” smiled one of the nurses, but Louise didn't believe her.

Even when she was taken to the hyperbaric chamber, she still didn't believe her. “Would you like to pick a DVD to watch?” asked Robin, after they had placed Louise on the bed, and the little girl shook her head. They wanted to keep her distracted, she knew, and she wasn't going to fall for it.

Lying in the clear tube for ninety minutes with nothing do to except stare at the ceiling was irritating, but Louise couldn't allow her attention to wander, even for a minute. Because if she did, then she would wake up with no kidneys.

When the treatment was over, and she was taken back to her room, the rest of her family were there, and Louise tried again to get someone to listen to her.

“Mom, they took my liver!” she cried as soon as she saw her mother. “They took it out when I was sleeping! Look at my tummy, there's a tube! They took my liver out!”

“What?” Linda approached her daughter, looking confused. “What are you talking about, sweetie?”

“They took my liver out; they stole it,” Louise explained, trying to sit up.

“Okay,” said Linda slowly. “I'm sure you just had a bad dream, honey. There's nothing to worry about.”

“Yes, there is something to worry about, Mom! They stole my liver!” Linda looked up at her husband.

“What's she talking about, Bobby?”

“Uh, she seems to think that the nurses took her liver,” said Bob, as the nurse approached them.

“So, Louise appears to be suffering from ICU psychosis,” she said, somewhat needlessly. “We're just going to check her stumps for signs of infection, and if there's none, then we can try to treat her.”

“Okay,” was all Linda could say.

Louise again tried to sit up as the nurses, along with Cabell, approached her.

“What are you going to do now?” she demanded.

“We just need to check your stitches,” Cabell told her. “Just to make sure they're healing okay.”

“Well, they are, so you can back off!”

“Louise, we're not going to hurt you,” said Robin calmly, but Louise was not listening.

“You already took my liver! What else do you want?”

“We didn't take your liver; I can promise you it's still there,” Robin told her. “We're just going to unwrap the bandages, and check your stitches.”

“You aren't coming anywhere near me!” Louise insisted.

“Louise, what if we could show you your liver is still inside you?” said Lucy, and Louise hesitated. Was this some kind of joke? Lucy took up a nearby portable ultraviolet light, which was used for disinfecting surfaces. “This is a mini body scanner,” she told the little girl. “I'll just quickly run it over your body, and then we'll get a photo up, like an X-ray, and you'll be able to see inside you.” Louise remained still, staring at the device. Robin saw where her fellow nurse was going with this and quickly slipped out of the room.

“No, it's not,” she said eventually.

“Oh, it is,” said Lucy, “now, keep still while I quickly scan you.” To everyone's surprise, Louise lay still, and her eyes followed the light as Lucy passed it over her body. “There! All done, and I'll just go to the printer and get the results,” she said, before leaving the room.

“That can't be real,” said Louise, managing to prop herself up on her elbow.

“She knows what she's doing; she's a nurse,” said Linda, unsure of what had just happened.

The two nurses came back into the room, a large scan in Robin's hand. It was a generic print of an X-ray, which they used to reassure frightened children going into surgery.

“So, Louise, this is the scan of your body,” said Robin, holding it up so Louise could see it. “Everything's here; see, your heart, your lungs, these are your kidneys,” she pointed them all out, “and this is your liver. It's right there, still inside you.”

Confronted with the truth, Louise had no choice but to accept that the nurses' didn't steal her liver. She suddenly felt rather silly.

“Wow,” she said. “I guess I was pretty stupid, huh?”

“It's okay,” said Linda, as Louise was placed back onto her bed.

“It made so much sense,” Louise said, wondering how she could have ever thought that, as Robin and Lucy approached her.

“Right, now we're going to check your stitches,” said Lucy, as she and Robin began to unwrap the bandages on Louise's feet. “It might feel a little tender and sensitive, but that's perfectly normal.” Louise, who had been looking relieved upon learning that she still had her liver, now had a look of uncertainty as she watched them work. She wasn't sure if she wanted to see what she was going to look like. She focused her eyes on her blanket, being careful to not look anywhere else, as the bandages came off. Her family didn't make a sound, and against her better judgement, Louise slowly looked up at her feet. Her jaw dropped slightly. They were slightly swollen, and a little bit bruised. Her toes were gone. The ends of her feet were slightly rounded, like a cartoon character, with stitches running from end to end. The thin drainage tubes remained inserted into the ends of both feet.

She felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away. They looked disgusting. She couldn't bear to look as the nurses carefully examined them.

“Good news,” smiled Robin, “there's no sign of infection, and the wounds appear to be healing well. The swelling should go down in about a week.”

“That's good,” said Linda. “So, she'll be okay?”

“We will need to check to see if the gangrene has spread or not, and we will give Louise another MRI scan in about two days. If everything's good, then she can make a start on physical therapy.”

“And then she'll be able to come home soon?” asked Bob.

“Well,” Cabell stepped in, “of course, it does depend on whether or not the gangrene has spread. If it has, then she'll have to go for further amputations, but so far, everything is looking good. We would really like for her to be moving about before she goes home. She will be able to use a wheelchair, but she needs to learn how to sit up and move into one, so I still think there's two weeks before she can go home. She's improving steadily, and so, in a couple of days, she'll be stable enough to be moved to the HDU.”

“What's HDU?” asked Bob.

“The high dependency unit,” explained Cabell. “It's like the next step down from intensive care.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yes; it means that she's improving.”

Throughout this conversation, Louise was staring silently at her stumps, watching as Lucy and Robin re-bandaged them, and removing the leg braces. She couldn't believe that they had really done it. Now she was destined to go through life looking like this. Louise wasn't vain; she couldn't care less about the way she looked. It was only natural; she was nine. She only brushed the ends of her pigtails because she had to, and it was a weekly battle to get her to wash her hair. She just had far more important things to do than worry about silly things like that.

But this was different. People were going to see her stumps, and they were going to stare, and she didn't think she could handle going through that again. People giving her looks of pity and sympathy, just like when the accident happened.

Her jaw jutted out at the thought; a load of random strangers forever approaching her, telling her how brave she was, cooing over her. She made up her mind right then and there that no one would ever know about this.

Cabell approached her, holding a small, clear device with a plastic tube attached to it. It resembled a tube with measurements printed on it, with some dark blue liquid at the bottom.

“Louise,” he began, “this is called an incentive spirometer; it'll keep your lungs clear.”

“I don't need that,” said Louise, as her bed was adjusted so she was sitting up.

“It'll keep your lungs active. You've had surgery, and this'll help get them back into shape.” He was starting to understand Louise's personality a little bit now, and so he did not mention that the spirometer was also used to avoid the build-up of fluid in the lungs.

“Fine, whatever,” Louise grabbed the device, looking irritated.

“Just put the end of the tube in your mouth, and breathe out deeply,” instructed Cabell. There was a yellow clip on the handle, next to the number that read '500'. The numbers went up to 2500. “When you breathe, the liquid is gonna go up, and we wanna get it to at least 500.”

Looking extremely annoyed, Louise did so. The liquid barely went past 200. She had to repeat the action ten times before she was instructed to cough. “Great,” said Cabell. “I'm gonna need you to do that every hour, okay?” Louise pulled a face in response, and he left the room, leaving the device with her.

* * *

Louise perked up slightly when lunchtime rolled around. Being waited on hand and foot sure made her hungry. She couldn't keep from pulling a face when she was handed a strawberry ice lolly.

“What is this, an appetiser?” she asked, taking it.

“It's lunch,” Robin had told her, holding another ice lolly.

“Where's the food? Can't I order something?”

“You're getting food through this tube here,” she'd pointed to the tube in Louise's vein. “So you don't actually need to eat. It'll only be for a few days.”

“Well, can't I have something anyway?”

“You don't need it,” Robin assured her. “You're getting everything you need through the tube.”

“I don't want the tube; take it out so I can eat.”

“I'm afraid we can't do that, Louise.”

“Why not?”

“We can't take the tubes out until you're a little bit better.”

“I'm fine, and I want proper food!” she insisted.

“You'll be able to eat proper food soon, but until then, you'll have to make do with these,” Robin told her.

“But -” Louise began, but Linda cut her off.

“It'll be fine, sweetie; it's just for a few days. And when the tube's out, you can have whatever you want. I mean it; anything you want.”

“..Pizza with chocolate chip cookies?” Louise asked.

“Yep,” Linda didn't even hesitate. “We'll make you a chocolate chip cookie pizza, alright?”

“Fine,” Louise frowned, andhad sullenly eaten her lollies in silence. She tried to not be paranoid; they weren't starving her, they wouldn't. They were giving her food, weren't they? Just not proper food.

After “lunch”, physical therapist Bradley Anderson arrived, by this time well known to all the Belchers'.

“Hi, Louise,” he smiled, and she ignored him. She knew what he was here for. “How you doing today?” Again, he got no answer, but he persevered. “So, today, I'm going to start you off with a few gentle exercises to help stretch out your legs. This'll prevent the muscles from tightening. First, I just want you to lift up your left leg. Can you do that for me?” Louise was staring at the ceiling, completely refusing to acknowledge him. She had been cooperative in her previous physical therapy sessions, out of necessity, but she couldn't bring herself to speak. Because speaking and participating would mean that her toes really were amputated. “Louise? I'm gonna need you to pay attention. Can you lift your left leg for me?”

“No,” she replied, her gaze still focused on the ceiling.

“You can't move your legs?” Anderson was confused, and Robin began to approach.

“Don't want to,” she muttered.

“I'm afraid you're gonna have to do this,” he said, and Louise shook her head.

“I'm not gonna.” She folded her arms, not looking at any of them.

“Well, you know,” he began gently, “if you don't do this, then you'll have to stay here for even longer. You want to go home, don't you?” She frowned, refusing to answer.

“Louise, sweetie,” Linda stepped in, sitting on the edge of the bed, “you've got to try. We want you to come home.”

“That's right,” said Tina from her spot near the window. “We miss you.”

“Well, I'm not doing this stupid stuff!” she snapped.

“Come on, Louise,” said Anderson. “The sooner you get started, the easier it will be for you. I know it can be upsetting, but -”

“You don't know anything!” her gaze was fixed on the wall ahead of her.

“Louise,” he said, trying to get her to understand. “This is very important; you need to do this. This will help you to be able to walk again. If you don't, then you'll be in a wheelchair forever. You don't want that, right?”

Louise looked down at her blanket. The scowl dropped from her face, but she shook her head again. “Even if there were no amputations, you'd need to do physical therapy anyway, for your broken ankle. This is no different. We want to help you get better, so you can go back home, and be with your family.”

“I don't want to do it!” she said sharply, throwing herself back against the pillows.

“It will be really good for you,” said Anderson, “but you do need to do this, and I'm afraid you can't go home until you make a start on this.”

Louise threw her head back, a look of great frustration on her face.

“Louise, please do this,” said Bob, coming a bit closer. “I know you're probably really upset, but -”

“I am _not_ doing this!” she shouted, clenching her fists, and blinking back tears.

“Louise,” began Anderson, but he was again cut off.

“No.”

“Now, come on, Louise.”

“No!” It was plain to see that she was getting agitated.

“It'll be okay; we'll start small. Just simple stretching exercises.”

“No, no, no! Stop talking to me! I won't do it, and you can't make me! Just leave me alone!” And with that, Louise covered her face with the pillow.

For a moment, the occupants in the room just stared at her. Then, they saw the shaking of her shoulders, and they realised she was crying.

Anderson tactfully retreated; he would try again tomorrow, while Louise's family gathered around her.

“Louise?” said Linda softly, as she placed a hand on her daughter's arm. Louise jerked it away and scrunched her hands into the pillow.

Bob sat on her other side, looking heartbroken. Gene and Tina were standing at the foot of the bed.

They all remained silent, as they knew there was nothing they could say to her. All they could do was be there for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> The next chapter will hopefully be up next Friday; if not, then it will be Sunday the 17th.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone, I'm back.  
> I'm not going to go easy on our little Louise in this chapter (but let's be honest, when have I ever?), so prepare yourselves, but there is happiness, as well, so don't worry.

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 10

Wharf Park had been completely restored; the fences had been put back up, the benches had been put back, and the machinery that had taken up residency had long gone. The only major differences were the steel lid that had been welded over the mouth of the well, and the three-foot-wide circle of concrete that filled the rescue hole.

The park looked normal, but it would forever be different.

Cards were still delivered to the Belcher home weekly, some containing money, others containing vouchers, gift certificates, and even letters and poems. Bob and Linda had kept all of them; there wasn't enough space in Louise's hospital room to display all of them; she would open them when she came home.

They were still besieged with phone calls from the reporters, and they had given strict instructions to the kids' to not answer the door, after one too many journalists had turned up on their front step. Bob and Linda had told Gene and Tina to not answer the reporters questions, be it on the phone or in person, no matter what.

The day after Louise's operation, Bob had surprised Gene and Tina by locking up the restaurant.

“How come you're closing up?” asked Gene as Bob pocketed his keys.

“We're going to see Louise,” he said.

“Yeah, but, we never close on Saturdays.”

“Well, she needs us,” was all Bob said, as Mike the mailman approached them, his bag in his hand.

“Got a package here for Louise,” he said, reaching into his bag, and pulling out a large box wrapped in brown paper.

“Oh, thanks,” said Bob, taking the surprisingly light parcel. “Who's it from?”

“Well, I don't know; I don't have X-ray vision,” said Mike, still rummaging in his bag.

“Yet,” said Gene, as Mike pulled out three envelopes and handed them to Bob.

“Some more cards for her. How is she doing?”

“She's getting better,” Bob said.

“That's good; when will she be home?”

“Um, two, maybe three weeks?” Bob guessed. None of them were certain when Louise would be able to come home. All they knew was that it couldn't come soon enough. Mike nodded in reply and left to continue his job.

“What do you think it is?” Tina looked at the box Bob was holding.

“I don't know,” Bob checked the return address, but it was only the post office. “I'll just go put it inside.”

“Wait, you're not gonna give it to her?” asked Gene.

“The nurses might not let her have it; in case of contamination,” Bob said before heading back into the apartment.

When they arrived at the hospital, Louise was asleep, and Linda was sat next to her bed, looking pretty tired herself. “Hey, Lin,” said Bob quietly. “How's she doing?”

“Oh, she barely slept last night. I don't know why.” Linda looked upset.

“Well, the nurse said that all the noise from the machines could keep her up,” Bob remembered, sitting next to his wife.

“Yeah, I think that was it,” she turned back as Louise began to stir.

“Ugh,” she groaned, opening her eyes. “Can't you guys just stop talking for once?”

“Sorry, baby,” said Linda. “Maybe you should go back to sleep, take a nap? Since you didn't sleep well last night.”

“Don't wanna take a nap; I'm not a baby,” Louise mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “Just need all these stupid machines to turn off.” She stretched and looked about, as if there would be something new to see. Looking over in the far corner, she paused. “Who is that?” she asked, gesturing with her head, causing them all to look.

“That man? That's Cary Grant,” said Linda, looking up at the television, which was playing an old black-and-white movie. “He's an actor.” She couldn't help but sigh; while he was no Tom Selleck, Cary Grant was certainly a dreamboat.

“No, him,” Louise pointed to the corner, below the television.

“Sweetie, there's nobody there,” said Linda, looking at the empty corner.

“There's a man standing there. He's watching me,” Louise didn't take her eyes off the place.

“I can't see him.”

“Well, he's there!” At that moment, Robin stepped forward.

“What does he look like?” she asked gently, and Louise studied the figure she was so sure she could see.

“It's hard to tell,” she said, “I can't really see his face. He's wearing a long, black cloak. The hood's pulled up.” She squinted. “He has a red mouth.” She was starting to get worried now; how did he get into her room? Why was he watching her? And, most importantly, why wasn't anyone doing anything about it? “Get him out of here,” she demanded.

“Louise, there's no one there,” said Bob, but his youngest shook her head.

“Yes, there is; I can see him.”

“Louise, this is just a symptom of sleep deprivation,” said Robin. “It's just your imagination.”

“Nuh-uh. He's real, and I want him gone.”

“This is just like when you thought we took your liver; it's not real.”

“This is real!” Louise continued to stare at the figure. He was standing absolutely still, watching her. She couldn't see his eyes, but she knew he was watching her.

“If this is real, then how come none of us can see him?” asked Robin.

“You can't? Really?” Louise looked genuinely confused, and she turned to her siblings. “Gene, Tina, you can see him, right?”

“Uhhhh,” Tina groaned, looking from the corner, to Louise, and back again. “I don't see anything!” she cried, feeling guilty for reasons she couldn't explain.

“I don't see anything, either,” said Gene, “but,” his eyes had moved up to the screen, “I am seeing one tasty dish. Hi, there!” he waved at his reflection.

“Well, you're either lying, or he's only making himself visible to me!”

“Why would he do that?” asked Bob, trying to make her see sense.

“I don't know! Ask him!” Louise gestured frustratedly to the corner. “Ugh, just make him leave!” she groaned.

“Louise, maybe you should get some sleep,” Robin suggested. “You're tired; I bet when you wake up, he'll be gone.” Louise looked at her like she'd just grown another head.

“I'm not sleeping with that thing watching me! No, get him out!” As Louise continued to stare at the figure, trying to work out what he wanted, Robin leaned in to Bob and Linda.

“Perhaps it might do her some good to get out of this room for a while?” she suggested.

“What did you have in mind?” asked Linda.

“If you wanted, we could put her in a wheelchair, and take her out into the garden?”

“That might be a good idea,” said Bob, before turning back to his daughter. “Louise?” She didn't look at him. “Louise? Do you want to go outside?”

“What?” she turned to face him.

“Do you want to go out in the garden?”

“What for?”

“A change of scenery, fresh air, a chance to get out of bed,” he listed.

“I don't wanna go anywhere until that thing is gone!”

“I'll tell you what,” said Linda, “while we're out, we'll get someone in to get rid of that guy. We'll take you outside to make sure that you're okay.” Louise was staring at her, and she continued, “just in case this guy doesn't wanna leave, and you'll be away if anything happens.”

Louise mulled it over, before grinning slightly.

“That's a good idea, Mom.” She glanced back into the corner, where the hooded figure was still watching her, “he looks like he'll cause trouble.”

As the physical therapist was unavailable, Robin and Lucy helped the girl into the wheelchair that had been brought in. When Louise had sat up, they carefully lifted her into the chair, being careful not to knock her feet, placing them on the footrests, and covering her with a blanket.

As they wheeled her out of her room, Bob and Linda could only exchange worried looks.

* * *

Louise had to admit, it felt good to be outside, which was something she never thought she'd say. The feel of a gentle breeze on her face was something she never knew she had missed.

Bob wheeled her around the garden, with Linda next to him, and Gene and Tina flanked their sister.

The hospital garden wasn't much to write home about; it was just a large space with grass, and trees, and paths. But, it was a chance for patients to get some exercise and fresh air, and so it was very much appreciated.

Louise, who hadn't been outside since she was brought to the hospital, ten days prior, was absolutely loving being anywhere apart from her room, and she was chattering away to her siblings.

It was what they all needed; to be away from the sterile ICU, and being together, without worrying about anything. “So, what's been happening at home, at school?” Louise asked as they stopped at a bench.

“Not much,” said Tina. “Jimmy Jr gave me a 'we'll see' when I asked him if he wanted to meet up after school next week.”

“And I've been having second helpings of fish sticks and chicken nuggets!” Gene looked unbelievably pleased upon mentioning this. “Mm, yum yum!” He rubbed his stomach appreciatively.

“Chicken nuggets sound good right now,” said Louise, a wistful tone to her voice. “Actually, anything sounds good right now.”

“I'm pretty sure that you can ask for what you want, and they'll bring it to you. They have menus here,” said Bob.

“Well, I can't do that right now, can I, Dad, as I have this stupid tube!”

“Louise,” he said, which was enough to make her fall quiet. “It's just for one more day, maybe two, and then you can eat what you want.”

“Good; I've had enough of this baby food.”

After about an hour, Bob and Linda tentatively took Louise back to her room. Although they felt confident that she would no longer “see” this hooded figure, they were worried that she might still be convinced it was still there.

However, before she could go back to her room, Louise had to undergo another round of oxygen therapy treatment. This was hopefully to be her last, as Dr Cabell was satisfied that the tissue damage had been sufficiently healed, and obstructed blood flow was no longer a problem.

Gene and Tina had never seen the chamber before, and Gene's curiosity was piqued.

“What's it like in there?” he asked, as he and Tina sat on chairs next to the clear tube, tapping on the plexiglass.

“Boring,” Louise replied, looking up at the television above her that was playing _“Jurassic Park.”_

“Can you hear us?” asked Tina, and Louise gave her an “are you serious?” look. “I mean, is the oxygen too loud?”

“Not so loud I can't hear you,” said Louise. In truth, the steady purr of the oxygen was about the same volume as Tina's monotone. To Louise, her sister sounded like the drone of a bee, and she could only just about hear what she was saying.

When the treatment was over, they all went back to the room. Louise instantly looked to the corner and sighed in relief when she saw the figure had gone.

“Keep her busy,” Linda muttered in Bob's ear as their youngest was placed back into her bed, and he nodded.

“So, Louise,” he said, taking a seat, “did you still want to speak to reporters?”

“Eh, why not?” she said, as the two nurses approached her. She saw what they were holding and pulled a face; it was time for her back wounds to be cleaned.

“Well, you know, it's completely up to you, and you can always change your mind if you feel like it,” said Linda.

“I already said yes, Mom,” Louise gasped as the saltwater touched the sores. “How long til these go away?” she gestured to her back.

“Just a few more weeks,” said Robin.

“Weeks?!”

“They're healing well,” said Lucy, “we just need to keep doing this.” She didn't mention to Louise that she would need a few more debridement sessions in order for the wounds to completely heal.

“So,” Louise turned back to her parents, trying to ignore the pain, “what's the deal with all these reporters wanting to talk to me?” She understood why the media were interested – she was Louise Belcher, of course they wanted to speak to her – but she needed to keep herself distracted.

“You're famous, Louise,” said Tina, causing her sister to straighten up slightly.

“I am?” she asked, and her family nodded. “Well, I always knew it would happen, just not this soon.” 

“They all wanna know how you're doing, and to just talk to you,” said Linda.

“About this whole thing, right?”

“Yeah.” Bob wasn't sure how much she would be willing to talk about it.

“Were you scared?” asked Tina before she could stop herself.

“Pfft!” Louise scoffed, “as if I get scared! Do you even know me? I haven't been gone that long, T.”

“No, it's just, when you were in there, you sounded...” Tina trailed off.

“I don't know who you were talking to; maybe another kid stuck in a well,” there was a slightly sharp tone to her voice, and thankfully, Tina dropped it. “So,” Louise quickly decided to go back to what they were talking about, “when am I talking to these people?”

“Uh, whenever you want, I suppose,” said Linda, as the nurses finished cleaning the wounds.

“Well, my schedule's wide open,” said Louise sarcastically.

“Okay, well, if you want, we can arrange it for next week,” said Linda.

“Sure, whatever.” Louise wasn't that bothered about being on television; she had done it before; they all had, but this time the focus would be solely on her, which was as it should be. “Will they be in here?” she asked.

“It will be held in the conference room,” said Robin. “I don't think they'd all fit in here.”

“Huh? How many will there be?”

“Well, if it's anything like the first one, lots,” said Linda.

“First one? What have I been missing? Why didn't you tell me?” Louise never appreciated being left out of the loop about anything.

“Oh, the day you were rescued, they had a press conference here, because people wanted to know if you were okay,” Linda explained. Louise tried to think back to that night; she remembered being pulled from the well, and being brought to hospital. She only vaguely remembered her time in the emergency room; she wasn't sure if parts of it were a dream or not. But, apart from that, she had no memory of her first week in hospital.

“Did you guys speak to them?”

“No; we stayed here with you.” Louise nodded. She had to admit, she was intrigued. She kind of wanted to see the videos and the pictures. Maybe it would seem more real.

“Okay.” She paused, before a thought came to her, “so how long is Dingle-berry Bush going to jail for?” 

“What?” Bob was caught off guard.

“He's been arrested, right?”

“Um, no.”

“Well, why not?! He's the one that did this!”

“You're right, honey; he should be in jail,” Linda truly believed that. In fact, she would like to be locked in a room with Logan before he was sent down, to see how much of him was left by morning. “We haven't done anything; we were too busy taking care of you.”

“So, is he going to jail?” Louise thought that was what he deserved, and she couldn't help but grin picturing Dingle in his striped prison clothes, being made to break rocks, and living on bread and water. Bob and Linda looked slightly taken aback. Of course, they wanted Logan punished, but they weren't sure if he would actually go to jail.

“Well,” Linda began gently, “we'll do our best to get him punished, but it's really up to the police what happens.”

“Well, they'll – wait, the police know?” It suddenly occurred to Bob and Linda at just how much of her own rescue she was unaware of.

“...Yeah,” said Bob, feeling a bit guilty that he didn't tell her what was happening above ground.

“So, wait, what actually happened? Why were the police there?” She remembered telling people to get the police, but she didn't think they actually would do it.

“The police were there because there was a crowd, and they had to keep everyone back; they had to supervise everything. Two of them stayed by the well constantly and talked to you.” Louise nodded, remembering the voices.

“Was it just police?”

“There were firemen, paramedics, diggers, volunteers, and an underground safety specialist. He's the one who broke through the well, and saw you first. Do you remember that?”

Louise thought hard; she remembered everything from her time in the well, even toward the end when she was very weak. Only now that it was mentioned, did she remember a man talking to her and touching her head.

“Oh, yeah, I remember that,” she said casually.

“There was a food truck!” Gene butted in, looking excited at the memory, “better sandwiches than Reggie's!”

“And all these people watching; I don't know who they were,” said Tina. That was the part that displeased Louise; she couldn't think of anything worse than having an audience during the second worst moment of her life. But, there was nothing she could do about it, even though she would complain about it for the rest of her days.

“Okay, so there was a conference. What else did I miss?”

“That reporter from Channel 6 came in the day after they got you out, and spoke to us. That's about it; we wanted you to make the decision, so we didn't talk to anyone else,” Linda told her.

“Okay. So, sibs, again, tell me what I've been missing,” Louise deftly changed the subject, and Gene and Tina began to talk animatedly about school.

* * *

When the children were engrossed in their conversation, the nurses came over to Bob and Linda.

“According to Dr Cabell, Louise is stable enough to be moved to the HDU tomorrow,” said Lucy. “She'll be transferred about mid-morning, after her MRI scan, and you will all be welcome to help settle her in. We're going to give her a quick health check tonight, just to make sure she's still stable. And patients in the ICU are allowed visitors' outside of family.”

“I think she'll like that,” said Bob, thinking of Teddy and Mort, who had been asking every single day when they would be able to see Louise.

“However,” began Robin, “unlike here, the HDU has strict visiting hours, to allow the patients to get their rest. I'm afraid you won't be able to stay with Louise overnight.”

“Oh, I don't think she'll sleep here without us,” said Bob, looking upset.

“Unfortunately, it's policy,” said Lucy.

“So, she has one more night here,” said Robin. “It's unlikely, but possible that the ICU psychosis could return, but, as before, we can treat her for it.”

“Do you think it will come back?” asked Linda, looking worried.

“We can't say for sure, Mrs Belcher. If it does return, then we can treat her the best we can.”

“But what if she sees that man again?”

“If she does experience another hallucination, then, if you wanted, we could give her something to help her sleep.” Bob and Linda glanced at each other.

“Okay, then,” said Linda, nodding, “if you think it'll help her. Will it work?”

“It depends on how vivid the hallucination is; if it doesn't work, we will try something else.”

“Like what?”

“Well, worst-case scenario is we would have to sedate her. But we would only do that if she became aggressive and violent – for her own safety.”

“Do you think she will?” asked Bob, not wanting to think about it.

“I can't say for certain.” It wasn't what they wanted to hear, but there was nothing they could do about it.

“Hey,” said Louise, causing them to look over at her. “So, how long am I gonna be in here? Will I be out in time for Easter?”

“With luck, you will be. You're improving well,” said Lucy.

“You don't have a clearer answer? I don't want to miss the Easter Bunny.”

“You should be able to go home in about three weeks, and it's only March 9th,” Lucy told her, and Louise looked a bit confused.

“It's March? Wait, wait, that can't be right!”

“No, it's March,” Lucy crossed the room to pick up a small calendar, which she then showed to Louise.

“Huh. So, wait, how long was I in there again?”

“Five days,” Bob told her, and she nodded.

“So, I've already been here for almost two weeks, and I have to stay for three more?! Why?” she demanded.

“Well, you need to remain here for the two weeks after your operation, and so we can start physical therapy.” Louise groaned. Again with the physical therapy; were they ever going to give it up?

While Louise was arguing about the physical therapy that she didn't need, and when she would be able to go home, Linda stepped outside, pulling out the phone, and dialling.

“ _Hello, Olsen Benner, Channel 6 News,”_ came the voice on the other end. Olsen had given the Belchers' her number for when they wanted to talk.

“Hi, this is Linda Belcher,” she introduced herself, thinking that it was time to arrange the conference before she forgot.

“ _Oh, hi, Mrs Belcher, how are you?”_

“We're all fine, thanks. Uh, Louise is feeling better now, and she wants to talk to the news?” She wasn't really sure how to word it.

“ _Oh, that's wonderful; I'm so glad to hear she's better,”_ said Olsen. _“Okay, I will speak with my boss, and we will get back to you with some dates and times, if that's okay?”_

“Yeah, that's great. Actually, we could do in a few weeks if you wanted?”

“ _If that works for you, then we can try to arrange that. It probably would be better to do it sooner rather than later. Do you know how many messages we get asking how Louise is?”_

“No,” Linda, Bob, and the kids didn't search up the Louise Belcher rescue online. It just felt too surreal. They had seen some photos posted on social media, but they didn't actively search for them. Perhaps one day, they would, but at that moment, they wanted to focus on the Louise that was actually in front of them.

“ _A lot, Mrs. Belcher. A lot. Well, thank you for calling, and I will get back to you in a few days to finalise everything.”_

“Great, thank you so much,” said Linda, before saying goodbye, and hanging up.

When she returned, Louise was still arguing with the nurse.

“I don't need it!” she was saying.

“I'm afraid you have to,” Robin told her.

“You do, sweetie. It'll help you walk again,” said Linda, taking her seat once again.

“I haven't forgot how to walk!” Louise snapped, “so I don't need it!” 

“Louise, you're going to have to learn a new way of balancing, because of your amputations,” said Robin, and Louise scowled. “this will help you be able to walk properly.”

“I don't want it,” she frowned, crossing her arms.

“Why?” asked Robin gently, “why don't you want to walk?”

“Because,” was all Louise said. Just like Cabell, Robin and Lucy were beginning to understand Louise more and more.

However, Bob and Linda knew that the reason she was refusing to co-operate was because she didn't want to deal with what was happening. It was all too much for her, and they knew the best thing to do would be to let Louise go at her own pace.

“So, Louise,” Bob tried to change the subject, “you'll be in another ward tomorrow, and that means you get to have visitors. That'll be cool, huh?”

“It'll be cool if they bring me presents. Or money. Or presents and money,” said Louise.

“Your friends want to see you,” said Tina, and Louise looked over at her.

“Yeah, that's not gonna happen.” Kids from school seeing her in hospital? Where they could possibly see the results of her amputations, and her surgeries? She wasn't about to let that happen. Looking down at her arms, Louise could see the scars on her inner forearms and on the backs of her hands. She wanted to ask when they would fade, but she didn't. “Much as I hate to deprive them of my presence, but I can't allow that.”

“Why not?” asked Gene.

“It'll make my return to school that much better, just showing up outta the blue, you know?”

“Well, what about Regular-sized Rudy? He's been asking every day. Can he come?”

“Uh, let me think about that,” Louise began sarcastically, “still nope. No exceptions, T.”

“Oh, okay, then.”

The Belchers' were careful to keep Louise busy throughout the rest of the day, in hopes that she would sleep well at night. They made her use her incentive spirometer (though she still wasn't very good with it). They played paper games, such as Hangman, Noughts and Crosses, they created their own word searches, and they had an extremely fun afternoon, eventually managing to forget where they were for a little while.

* * *

That night, it was Bob's turn to stay with Louise, and he hoped she would fare better than she had the previous night. She did look pretty tired, with bags under her eyes, and so he hoped that she would sleep easy.

“Alright, now you just go to sleep,” said Bob quietly, tucking her in, after Linda and the kids' had left.

“How about we open up the Burn Unit for a while?” Louise suggested, pulling the covers down.

“Not tonight; come on, you need to sleep.” Bob pulled the blanket back over her.

“No, I don't. I already slept.”

“Not according to your mom. Come on; it's late, and you're changing rooms tomorrow.” Louise did not answer him, and begrudgingly lay back down against her pillows.

“I can't get comfortable,” she admitted. “I can't sleep on my back.” Bob felt bad upon hearing that.

“I'm not sure if you can move,” he said, not wanting to hurt her. “I don't think you can lie on your stomach because of the tube.”

“Then how am I supposed to sleep?” she asked grumpily.

“I could help you turn on your side?” he suggested, but Louise shook her head. If she slept on her side, she would roll onto her stomach. “I'm sorry,” he said quietly, making sure she was as comfortable as she could be, before lying on the sofa next to the door.

He didn't go to sleep, though. Instead, he lay there, watching his daughter until she fell asleep. It was not quick; Louise lay awake for several hours, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't be sure, but she appeared to occasionally glimpse at him out of the corner of her eye, though she said nothing.

He didn't know how many hours had passed when he saw her sit up, and reach for something on her bedside table.

“Louise, put the remote down,” he said, causing her to jump slightly. “No TV.”

“Why not?! I'm just gonna be lying awake all night; why can't I watch TV?”

“Louise,” he sighed, getting off the sofa. “You need to sleep, and you can't do that if you're watching TV. Just try, okay?” To his surprise, she complied, and he went back to his bed.

Try as she might, Louise couldn't sleep. She was tired, but she couldn't sleep, even though she lay absolutely still with her eyes closed, nothing worked.

Several hours later, Louise awoke with a start, unaware that she'd dropped off. The lights were dim, her dad was snoring away, and the machines were beeping. She stretched her arms and looked around. One of the nurses, she couldn't see which, was sat in a chair in the corner, writing something. She looked over towards the window and froze, because standing directly next to her bed and leaning over her was the cloaked figure she had seen that morning.

“Dad?” she tried to call, but nothing came out. She stared at the figure, her eyes wide, and frozen in fear. She tried to ask him what he wanted, but again, nothing came out. She pressed herself into her pillow as he leaned even closer over her. She shook her head slightly, wishing it would go away, hoping the nurse would see, and make it leave.

The thing smiled at her, and Louise could see sharp, pointy teeth surrounded by its red mouth. She still couldn't see any other part of its face, and the thing's grin grew wider. Louise could only watch as it lifted one cloaked arm, its fingers long and clawed, before it tapped at her IV bag, which was giving her antibiotics, and pain medication. Louise looked up at the bag, and then back at the figure. It grinned at her again, a truly evil grin, before it skulked off back to the corner, where it remained, watching her.

Her gaze flittered from the bag to the creature, and back again. She looked over at her dad, but he was still asleep, and the nurse didn't seem to notice that she was awake. Looking back up at her IV bag, Louise studied it, trying to find out why the thing had pointed to it. The liquid inside was clear, and travelled through a tube into her right arm. Another intravenous line in her left arm was giving her food supplement. Louise knew that that thing wasn't there to help her. She didn't know who it was or what it wanted, but she knew that it couldn't be anything good. She looked over at it again, and caught its grin, and she realised that the thing had done something to her IV. It was trying to poison her, and she panicked. Reaching down, she gripped the tube in her hand, and yanked it out. Blood spurted everywhere, and she couldn't help but gasp in pain. Lucy looked over, and when she realised what had happened, she rushed over. She wasn't quick enough, and Louise ripped out her other IV, and her catheter, letting out a small cry of pain. Lucy hurriedly approached her and saw what had been done. She reached over and pressed the call button next to the bed, while simultaneously holding the dressing over Louise's bruised, bleeding stomach.

“It's alright,” she said quietly, trying to keep Louise still.

“No! No, don't! Let me go!” Louise began to struggle, and Lucy had to really work hard to stop her from moving.

“Louise, keep still now,” said Lucy, “we need to put your IVs and catheter back in.”

“No!” Louise shrieked, causing Bob to awaken. “No, it's poison! He put poison in it!” Now, Bob was by her side, kneeling by the bed.

“Louise?” he asked, looking confused.

“Louise, it's okay,” said Lucy, as Robin and Cabell entered the room. “We're not going to hurt you; there's no poison.”

“Yes, there is!” Louise screamed, trying to jerk her right arm out of Lucy's grip. Bob was holding her other hand tightly, looking worried. “He's back!” She nodded towards the corner of the room, “he's there watching me! He put something in the bag!” Louise was doing her best to get away, but now Lucy, Robin and Cabell were holding her down.

“Louise, there's no one there,” said Cabell. “We need you to keep still for a moment, okay?”

“No, no, no!” Louise thrashed, but it was no use; she was surrounded.

“I promise you, there's no poison here, we're here to help you,” said Robin, but Louise wasn't listening.

“Get away from me!” she screamed, having had enough, and kicking out with her good leg. It came into contact Robin's side, and the pain caused Louise to scream, squeezing her eyes shut, and tears falling down her face.

“Can you step back for a minute, please?” Cabell said to Bob.

“What, why?” Bob was trying to soothe his screaming daughter; he was still holding her hand, and he was stroking her head, doing his best to calm her.

“We're going to have to sedate her,” he said, and Bob looked up at him.

“What?”

“We need to reinsert the IVs and the catheter, and she's too hysterical to let us do it.” Bob could only nod as he shuffled back a few paces. He wanted to hold Louise's hand, but that was the hand the needle was due to go in. He had to look away as the needle was inserted, and Louise let out another cry of pain. Bob moved back as soon as it was over and took her hand again.

“It's gonna be alright,” he told her.

“He's trying to poison me,” she said, her arms covered in blood, causing Bob to gag.

“No, he's not. I wouldn't let him do that,” he said.

“You let them cut my toes off,” she said, frowning at him.

“That's different; they needed to do that. No one's gonna poison you.”

“He already has,” Louise looked over at the corner, where the figure was still watching her. “Oh, what do you want? Go away and leave me alone!” she moaned. The sedative was starting to take effect as she was slurring. Soon enough, she was asleep, and the doctors moved back in.

Bob couldn't watch as they reinserted her IVs and catheter, and cleaned her up. He felt exhausted; any questions he had went unanswered as he fell into a deep sleep in his chair.

* * *

When he awoke the next morning, Louise was still sleeping, and Dr Cabell was there.

“Morning, Mr Belcher,” he said, as Bob stretched before standing. “Louise should wake up soon, and after breakfast, we'll take her down to radiology, and do the MRI, and then we can transfer her to the HDU.”

“Great,” Bob mumbled, still half asleep. “Is she okay?”

“She's fine.”

“She – that won't happen again, will it?”

“No; patients who are transferred out of the ICU improve almost immediately.” Bob nodded, feeling slightly relieved. He looked down at Louise, before remembering, and his eyes shot open. “Crap!” He reached into his pocket for the phone and began to dial. “I forgot to call Lin!” He stepped outside the room as the call connected.

“ _Bobby, is that you? What is it?”_ Linda sounded worried, and he couldn't blame her; he wouldn't call unless it was urgent.

“Everything's fine,” he said. “It's just – they had to sedate Louise last night.” He heard her gasp.

“ _What?! What happened? Is she okay?”_

“She's fine. Last night, she ripped out all her tubes, and they had to sedate her while they put them back in.”

“ _What? Why did she rip them out?”_

“I don't know,” Bob said, “something about it being poison; I think she had that psychosis thing again.”

“ _Oh, my poor baby,”_ said Linda, _“okay, we're on our way.”_

When Bob returned to the room, Louise was now awake and eating her breakfast. She looked a lot calmer than she had the night before. He decided not to mention the previous night; she might not even remember, and if she did, there was no point getting her worked up about it.

When breakfast was over, Linda, Gene and Tina had not yet arrived, and so it was just Bob who accompanied Louise to her MRI scan.

When she was placed on the bed that would put her inside the machine, Louise suddenly remembered her time in the emergency room, when she was placed in an MRI machine. She had been too exhausted to do anything, but she remembered staring blankly at the ceiling above it as the machine whirred.

As soon as she was in the machine, she decided that she didn't like it. Even with the earplugs she had been given, it was too loud, she didn't like the strap over her chest, and the small size of the tube made her feel uncomfortable. Her left hand was tightly gripping a rubber bulb she had been given, as a way of communication, and her right hand was clenched into a fist.

She was particularly angry at the fact that the nurses had removed her bandages, and now her disgusting, deformed feet were on display for all to see.

* * *

When she was done, Linda and the kids had arrived, and Louise was taken to her new room to get settled. The room was similar to her old one in the ICU, but larger. There were two beds, with curtains to separate them, a nightstand each, and a small television with a DVD player fixed to the wall opposite the beds.

Just like the ICU, the high dependency unit was centred around a nurses' station, and the room was equipped with chairs, and classic cartoon characters were painted on the walls to make the place seem friendlier.

Louise was displeased, to say the least, to learn that she had to share the room; the occupant was already there, a little seven-year-old girl by name of Bella.

Bella, although looking pale and a little bit sickly, nonetheless greeted Louise enthusiastically when she had arrived. Louise had promptly ignored her. Not only was this kid younger than her (Louise would never fraternise with babies), she was wearing pink, and playing with a doll. Those three things were enough to make Louise never want to speak to her. Dolls! It was enough to make her want to puke. And Francine didn't count; Louise was insistent on that. She _definitely_ didn't still have the doll, and she _definitely_ didn't sometimes, occasionally, play with it.

Usually, the visiting policy for the HDU was no more than two family members at a time, but as Louise was a new arrival, her entire family was allowed to help her get settled in.

Linda had brought Dodomeki and Mizuchi, along with her Kuchi Kopi toothbrush.

At that moment, they were all gathered around Louise's bed. She was still hooked up to IVs, and the nearby machines were monitoring her vitals.

“I can't believe I have to share a room,” Louise was complaining, as her family sat around her bed.

“Aw, be nice to her,” said Linda, pulling back the curtain that Louise had insisted on being drawn. “She seems sweet.”

“I don't wanna share a room. I want my own room.”

“We don't get to choose where they put you,” said Bob.

“Well, you can pull some strings, right, Dad? Seeing as how I'm a celebrity and all? I should be in a private room for my own protection! What if I have stalkers outside?” She began to wave her arms, and Bob had to laugh. Already, being out of the ICU was doing wonders for her. It was beginning to feel like they had the old Louise back.

“I think you'll be fine in here,” he told her. Truthfully, he knew there was no way they could afford a private room; they couldn't even afford the mattress on her bed. He had no idea how he was going to pay for all of this; he wouldn't even able to pay for Louise's first half-hour in the emergency room, but he didn't care. His daughter was alive, and here with them; that was all that mattered. That was worth more than any amount of money.

A few hours later, Louise was asleep, and a harried-looking couple entered the room. Bob and Linda were sat by Louise's bed, and Gene and Tina had asked to go on a snack run, so they were hunting down the vending machines.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Bella cried happily, throwing up her arms.

“Bella! Oh, my little Bella-wella-boo!” the mother wrapped her child up in a warm hug, with the father following suite. “Have you been being a good girl?” Bella's mother, Rachel, planted kisses over her daughter's face.

“Yes, Mommy; I do what the nurse tells me,” Bella grinned.

“Good girl. Keep it up and we can take you home soon,” said Justin, her father. They did not appear to have noticed the Belchers', who were watching quietly, hoping Louise remained asleep. “As you've been so brave, we got you something.” He produced a bag from behind his back and handed it to Bella.

“Oh, wow!” she pulled out a tiny doll's dress, holding it aloft in awe. It was pink, with puffy sleeves and a matching skirt, with white lace edging. “That's the one I saw in the store! Oh, thank you, Daddy!” She reached out and hugged him, before grabbing her doll.

“Aw, you're welcome, sweetie. You deserve it,” Justin smiled.

“Right, so tell us what we've missed, as you know we couldn't see you yesterday.” Rachel and Justin sat down at their daughter's bedside.

“Oh! Oh, but shh!” Bella seemed to have suddenly become aware of the volume of her voice. “My new friend is sleeping,” she pointed to Louise, and her parents, looked over, starting slightly.

“Oh, sorry!” Rachel lowered her voice, as well. “We didn't see you there.”

“That's okay,” said Bob. Justin stood and made his way to the end of the bed, extending his hand.

“Justin Nolan. This is my wife, Rachel, and our daughter, Bella.”

“Bob Belcher,” Bob awkwardly shook his hand. “This is my wife, Linda -” Linda stood and enthusiastically wrung both parents' hands, “- and this is our daughter, Louise. Our other kids are at the vending machines,” he explained.

“Oh, my God, that's the little girl who was in the well!” Rachel gasped, looking the spitting image of her excitable daughter.

“Yeah..” said Bob slowly. This was still so weird. Did everyone know who they were now?

“Aw, look at her. She been sleeping a lot?”

“Yeah,” said Linda. “Bless her; she's been so exhausted.”

“Well, she went through something terrible,” said Rachel understandingly. “Bella slept like crazy after her surgery; it was like she'd never slept in her life. How long is she going to stay? Bella's hopefully got two weeks.”

“Uh, I think the doctor said three weeks.”

“She's looking so much better,” said Justin, and Rachel nodded.

“Thanks,” Linda beamed. “Your little Bella looks great; what's she here for?”

“Oh, she has Bradycardia, which means her heartbeat is slower than normal,” Rachel explained, and the Belchers' could see the strain in her eyes. “So, last week, she had a pacemaker put in, but they want to keep her in for a few weeks,” was all she said. Linda sensed that Rachel was getting upset, so she did not pursue the matter.

“Well, she looks fine,” Linda smiled, “and she was so sweet to Louise when we arrived.”

“Louise is grumpy,” piped up Bella, causing them to chuckle.

“Yeah, she is,” Bob admitted. “She doesn't like being here.”

“I don't think anyone likes being in hospital,” said Justin.

“Yeah, it's not nice,” Bob agreed. He looked down at his sleeping child, who had Kuchi Kopi tucked tightly under her arm.

“She doesn't open the curtain,” Bella complained. “I want to talk, and she doesn't want to.”

“She will soon, probably,” said Linda. “She's still adjusting right now.” That seemed to appease Bella, who nodded happily.

“The sooner she gets out of here, the better,” Bob turned his attention back to his youngest. “Just wanna bring her home,” he said quietly, stroking her forehead.

“I know how you feel,” said Rachel. “We want nothing more than to bring Bella home, too.” She looked at Louise, as well. Bob and Linda did feel a little strange; they weren't used to themselves, or their children, receiving this much attention. “She's so tiny,” she realised. “She doesn't look much bigger than Bella.”

“Well, she was a preemie,” said Linda, nodding. She personally didn't think Louise was that small; at least, not as little as everyone made her out to be. Okay, the mother could admit that her youngest was indeed small, but then, she rarely thought about it. Even less so now, after everything that had happened lately.

“Oh, was she? This one here was two weeks late,” Rachel ruffled Bella's hair, grinning.

“Two weeks?! Oh, you poor thing! You know, I was a week late with Gene, and it was just awful.” It had been the most physically uncomfortable week of her life – excluding the terrible time when her baby was trapped – and so she truly sympathised with any late birth. Gene was already a few pounds bigger than the average baby, and so her pain had felt like it was maximised.

“We tried _everything_. She just didn't wanna come out! If she had her way, she'd still be in there,” Rachel laughed, and so did Justin, Linda, and Bob.

“Louise was probably in a rush to get here,” said Bob, and Linda nodded. “It was like she couldn't wait.”

“She's very brave,” said Rachel. “I mean, she survived that; she's special.”

“Thanks. We think so, too.”

“That was...” Linda trailed off when Bella's parents had left a little while later. Bella was busy playing with her doll, and Louise was still asleep.

“Weird,” Bob had to say, and he was surprised when Linda nodded in agreement.

“What happened?” asked Tina. She and Gene had arrived not long before Rachel and Justin left.

“They were just so.. interested in Louise,” said Bob.

“Well, she is famous now,” observed Gene, looking up from the sliding puzzle game he had been engrossed in. “Might as well get used to it; celebrity status is for life.”

“You know, people talk to me like Louise is their own child,” said Linda, resting her head in her chin. “Do you remember; I was at the grocery store, and that lady told me that she cried when they got Louise out? I mean, that's sweet, but then she told me that she wanted to buy a little gift for her!”

“Well, I mean, I guess people just want to help,” Bob remembered the rescue effort; all those strangers volunteering to save their child. “And I guess this is one of the ways.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right,” Linda rubbed her chin. “I'm not.. concerned; I don't think anyone will hurt her. It's just.. all these strangers acting like they know her. Another lady told me that she'd been keeping a close eye on her kids, in case something happens to them; I don't get that at all.”

“Well, it could have happened to them, right?” said Tina, and they looked over at her. “If Logan hadn't picked on Louise, it might have been someone else.”

“That's true,” Bob admitted. “I guess that's why people were so interested; it could have been them. Good observation,” he smiled at Tina.

“Thanks, Dad.”

* * *

After just a few days in the HDU, and Louise had progressed remarkably; she was no longer dehydrated, and her core temperature was back to normal. Her MRI scans had come back clear, and she was to have no further amputations. She had had another round of debridement surgery, and was healing well. She was sleeping and eating well, and was getting better at managing her pain. Her ankle was in a cast now that the swelling had gone down, and Louise insisted that anyone who came to visit her had to sign it.

Louise had gotten a bit of her old self back; cranky when awakened early, even more stubborn about the physical therapy, and bored of being stuck in the hospital.

The only things she was unhappy about was her roommate; the pink and princess obsessed Bella, who never stopped chattering, and the main nurse who cared for them both.

Nurse Judith had a bit of a stern face, and a rather brisk manner, which Louise took to mean she had to be at least 100. Louise didn't like her because the nurse didn't seem to be that concerned with her, and sometimes didn't allow her to watch television or play with her toys. In truth, Nurse Judith had seen it all before, and wasn't going to put up with Louise's nonsense. If Louise was going to make things difficult for everyone by refusing to take her medicine? No TV for her. Louise is keeping her other patient up past her bedtime, with the lights on, and playing? The toys get taken for the night, and the lights go off. Judith's job was to care for all of her patients, not just one.

“Hey. Hey, Louise, hey!” Louise ignored Bella's attempts to get her attention through the closed curtain and talked quietly to Kuchi Kopi. “Louise!” All of a sudden, Bella was right there next to her bed, and Louise gasped.

“What do you want?” 

“How come you always keep the curtains closed?”

“So I can be by myself.” Louise was already bored with her.

“Don't you want to play? I'm bored,” Bella whined, and she held out her doll, which was dressed in a hospital gown. “Here, I'll let you play with Lola.”

“Lola?” Louise wrinkled her nose in disgust. “What the hell kind of name is Lola? You don't call dolls Lola!”

“No?” Bella looked hurt.

“You call them weird, old-fashioned names, like Elizabeth, or Charlotte,” Louise informed her. “Now, go away.”

“But she was called Lola when I got her. It said “Lola” on the box,” Louise sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I don't care!” she snapped, “I hate dolls, so just stop annoying me!”

“You hate dolls?” Bella's blue eyes widened. “How?! Lola is my best friend!”

“That's really sad,” said Louise.

“Lola doesn't think so, and neither do I,” Bella said, shuffling back to her bed. Louise could see a box on her bedside table, and it was full of doll clothes. Louise only scowled, the sight making her irrationally angry, and returned her attention to Kuchi Kopi. “What about your toys?” came Bella's voice, and Louise groaned. “What are they called?”

“None of your business!”

“I've never seen toys like that before. What are they called?”

“Not telling.”

“But I want to know.”

“Well, I don't want you to know.”

“Can't you just tell me?” Louise groaned again.

“Bakeneko, Akkoro Kamui, Dodomeki, and Mizuchi!” she snapped, and Bella giggled.

“They have funny names. Did you make them up?”

“No! They're real things! They're from Japanese folklore! Dodomeki is actually covered with eyes all over because they steal!” She didn't remember the legend all too well, at that moment. She did wonder why her Dodomeki plush looked nothing like the pictures she'd seen, but the label had said “Dodomeki,” so maybe it was a different form?

“Oh,” Bella looked a bit worried now, and Louise grinned. “What about him?” she pointed to Kuchi Kopi.

“That's Kuchi Kopi; the greatest Japanese character ever.”

“Is that the toy they put down the well?”

“... Yes,” said Louise through clenched teeth.

“It's good they put it down there, because it helped you to not be scared of the dark.”

“I am _not_ scared of the dark!” Louise insisted. “No way; there is no way I'm scared of the dark!”

“Well, if you're not scared of the dark, then how come you have a night light?”

“It wasn't my decision!” Louise lied. “It was the only Kuchi Kopi thing the store had, so I got it!”

“Oh. Well, maybe your mommy and daddy will get you some more Kuchi Koopi stuff.”

“Kuchi _Kopi._ And don't say “mommy and daddy”; what are you, five?”

“No; I'm seven,” said Bella innocently, and Louise groaned again. “And that's what you call your daddy; you call him 'daddy.'”

“No, I don't.”

“You do in your sleep,” said Bella, and Louise stared at her, silent.

“What?”

“I think you have bad dreams, because you move around a lot, and you say, “daddy, daddy,” and you ask him to help you,” Bella revealed.

For once in her life, Louise didn't know what to say. She didn't know she had been talking in her sleep.

“... Leave me alone!” she snapped, and Bella got the hint and returned her attention to her doll.

* * *

She had been in the HDU for just under a week, when Bob, Linda, Gene and Tina walked in one morning. Even though Louise knew that only two of them were allowed in at a time, which was a stupid rule, she didn't mention this. Old meanie Nurse Judith would probably make them leave.

Bob and Linda had closed for the morning because Patrick and Simon were going to visit Louise and they didn't want to miss it. Neither did Gene and Tina, which was why they were all allowed in the room.

It was about 10:30am; Louise had already had breakfast – porridge, a round of buttered toast, a bowl of apple slices and grapes, and a glass of water. Her back wounds had been cleaned, and now she was watching television.

Even though she was no longer dehydrated, Louise still drank an enormous amount; anything she could get her hands on; water, milk, juice, fizzy drinks because she still got thirsty a lot. She was currently drinking a big glass of orange juice whilst watching cartoons, with her family gathered around her. Bob had his video camera in his pocket, and was trying to conceal it; he wanted to capture the moment when Patrick and Simon came, and remember it forever.

“Louise?” the junior nurse, Mandy, entered the room. Louise liked her a lot better than Judith; Mandy was so much nicer. “There are some people out here who'd like to visit. Is that okay?”

“Who is it?” asked Louise, as Linda took the empty glass from her and placed it on the side table, not noticing the smiles on her family's faces, nor the fact that Bob had the video camera in his hand, filming. About time she got some visitors; she'd only been stuck in a well for five days; people should be lining up to see her. Apparently, Big Bob, Teddy and Mort had been to see her, but Louise had been asleep, so it didn't count.

“Just some people who know you.”

“Alright, then.” Mandy stepped back and two men holding a massive card entered the room.

Louise looked up at the two smiling men. They looked so familiar; she had definitely seen them before, she just couldn't think where or when. She looked into their faces, eyes narrowed slightly, trying to place them, and then it clicked. The one on the left, he had been holding her. Louise remembered the cameras flashing and the cheering as they were hoisted above ground, as the tunnel grew lighter and lighter until it seemed brighter than day. She remembered this man talking to her quietly and smiling, and the relief in his eyes.

But the man on the left...

Louise remembered this man very well; she remembered the man talking to her, trying to comfort her, and she remembered the rubble being lifted off of her bit by bit, and slowly being brought out of the well. She remembered looking into the man's face, although she wasn't aware of anything at the time, and both men strapping her down onto a spinal board. It was strange how she remembered the whole thing better now than when it actually happened.

Louise suddenly broke into a big grin, and her arms jerked up as if to hug them, but then she pulled back, wondering if she should. She didn't do hugs, even to people who saved her. Patrick leaned towards her, and hugged her, Louise eventually hugging him back, shocking her family. She would never admit it, but she felt like crying a little. These people had saved her. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“It's great to see you looking so well,” grinned Patrick.

“Yeah,” agreed Simon. “We've got this for you,” and he and Patrick held up the giant six-foot-by-four-foot extremely colourful card, decorated with doodles, glitter and stickers. It was signed by every single member of both the fire and police departments in Seymour's Bay, no matter their rank, whether or not they were actually there. If they were a policeman or fireman, they signed the card. “This is from everyone at the police and fire stations,” he told Louise, whose jaw had dropped at the sight.

“Wow!” It was too big for her to hold, and so it was set against her beside table.

“We also brought you this,” Patrick held out a box, and Louise took it. Inside were plush toys of Catbus from _“My Neighbour Totoro,”_ and No-Face from _“Spirited Away.”_ Louise wondered how they knew her favourite characters from those films.

“Wow, cool!” She set them at the end of her bed, where Bakeneko, Akkoro Kamui, Dodomeki, and Mizuchi stood guard. Kuchi Kopi was on her nightstand, of course, watching over everyone.

“So, you'll be home soon?” asked Patrick, “bet you're looking forward to that.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” said Louise. “Can't wait.”

“Well, I'm sure it'll be sooner rather than later,” said Simon kindly. “The other guys who helped get you out wanna visit, too. Is that okay?”

“How many people?”

“Oh, lots,” said Patrick, “the policemen, the firemen, the diggers.”

“Cool. Sure.” Louise supposed that there must be more people wanting to visit her than any other patient, and that made her feel good.

“So, how did you get into this Japanese stuff?” asked Simon.

“I saw a movie when I was little, and I liked it, so I watched more.”

“And it just grew from there?”

“Yeah.” Of course, that wasn't the full story, but they didn't need to know that. Louise remembered it quite well. She had been three years old, and was unwell with what would turn out to be chickenpox, courtesy of Tina. She was lying on the sofa, wrapped up in a blanket, grizzling and whining. Bob and Linda were at their wits' end; nothing was working; Louise was refusing food and drink, even though she was hungry. She didn't want to be picked up, but would scream if you put her down. She didn't even want Bob. The exhausted father had felt like he was losing his mind.

In desperation, he had sat Louise on his lap, and began rocking her gently, trying to get her to sleep. He quietly shushed her as he stroked her sweaty forehead, her hair stuck to her temple. It wasn't working; Louise continued to moan and whine as he tried to calm her.

The television was on, and Bob noticed that one of his favourite Hawk and Chick movies was just starting, and he began to watch while rocking his daughter.

After a while, Louise glanced over at the screen, and saw a giant seaweed monster, and her grizzling died down almost instantly. Bob had thought she'd fallen asleep, but when he looked down, he saw her watching the film, intrigued.

That was how it had started. Bob had shown Louise all of the Hawk and Chick movies, glad to have someone to share them with; Linda and Tina hated them, and Gene showed no interest.

Louise would later ask where they were filmed, and began to research Japan, discovering anime, Yokai, and other parts of Japanese folklore. She found it fascinating.

Patrick and Simon stayed for about twenty minutes, before they had to go, but not before they each signed her cast, and promised the Belchers that they would keep in touch.

“What is this?” Tina picked up Catbus, examining it.

“It's Catbus, T,” Louise took the toy, “from _Totoro,_ you remember.”

“Uuhhh, I remember one movie about a cat land?”

“No, wrong one. That one was okay.” Truthfully, _Totoro_ wasn't her favourite. She liked _Spirited Away,_ but her favourites were _Princess Mononoke, Howl's Moving Castle,_ and she enjoyed _Tales from Earthsea._ The cutesy ones, like _Ponyo,_ held no interest for her.

* * *

Louise still refused to partake in physical therapy. Bradley Anderson, her physical therapist, had her working on upper arm strength, as she would need it to get in and out of her wheelchair. It would also make learning to walk on crutches easier for her, as well.

Louise only grudgingly participated in the upper arm work, because she could pretend that it was for something else. She was kind of hoping that it would give her big Popeye muscles.

One thing she absolutely refused to acknowledge was being taught how to clean her stumps. She needed to get the hang of it, so that it would become normal for her, but Louise acted like they didn't exist when the nurses made their daily rounds. It was a daily battle.

After Patrick and Simon had left, Mandy and Judith approached her.

“Alright, Louise; it's time to clean your stumps,” said Mandy.

“Nope,” said Louise, staring at the ceiling.

“Come on, Louise; once you know what to do, then you can start doing it yourself.”

“No.”

“Come on,” Mandy repeated, setting the bowl of warm water down. She had done this several times before, but she began to explain again anyway. “Louise, you need to do this every day to keep you healthy. When you're walking again, you'll have special shoe fillers to help you balance, so it's important to keep your residual limbs clean. All you have to do is gently wash them with warm water and soap, and then pat dry with a towel when you're done. And then, put some moisturising cream at night. That's it. That's all you have to do.”

“Well, I'm not gonna.”

“Louise,” Judith interjected, “this isn't something you can get out of. You need to learn to do this.”

“No, I don't.”

“Yes, you do, Louise.” The rest of her family could only sit there and watch. Of course, they knew that Louise had to learn self-care and physical therapy, but they also knew that forcing her before she was ready would only result in Louise digging her heels in and refusing to comply. It was happening with her physical therapy sessions, and it was happening now.

“You can't make me!”

As Mandy tried to coerce Louise into cooperating, her physical therapist, Bradley Anderson, came in and approached Bob and Linda.

“I'd thought we try a transfer in our sessions today,” he said to the parents, after observing the arguing child.

“A what?”

“Teaching her to move from bed to chair, and back again,” he explained. “Louise has been saying she wants to go outside; maybe this'll give her an incentive to work harder at physical therapy.”

“Okay, that could work,” said Bob. Louise, although very intelligent, was still a child; she couldn't (or refused) to see the link between co-operating, and leaving the hospital sooner. She still refused to use her incentive spirometer properly, and because she still couldn't walk, that meant she still had a catheter in her stomach. No amount of reasoning or persuasion could seem to get through to her.

However, when the time came for her physical therapy session, Louise still point-blank refused to participate, even when told she would be able to go outside.

“Come on, Louise,” said Linda, when Louise remained in her bed, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling. “We'll help you get into the wheelchair if you want, but it would help us if you could do it yourself, sweetie.” It was fruitless; Louise didn't even react. It was like she had trained herself to tune them out, until the session was over.

Both she and Bob felt so helpless. If Louise didn't want to accept help, then the only thing they could do for her was wait for her to see the light.

Once again, it wasn't going to happen, and so Dr. Anderson spent the remainder of the session talking to Bob and Linda about how to help Louise. They were in the corner of the room, while Gene and Tina sat with their sister.

“Of course, she'll learn how to get herself in and out of her wheelchair, but you'll need to learn how to lift her safely,” he was saying. “There's no reason why she shouldn't live a normal life. As she's had the same amputations on both feet, she shouldn't be too off balance.”

“That's good,” said Bob.

“It might be best to start thinking about making adjustments for when she comes home.”

“Adjustments?” asked Linda.

“Well, she's going to find it a bit difficult to move around. We hope to have her walking on crutches before she leaves, but you never can tell. Things like bars in the bathroom to help her stand, things like that. For example, if you live in a two-storey house, it might be easier to move Louise's bedroom to the ground floor.”

Bob couldn't help but groan slightly. “We do live in a two-storey house, but we live above our restaurant.”

“Oh. Okay,” Anderson looked a bit put out. “Well, a ramp is always an option, although it would be difficult getting up all those stairs. The other option is a stairlift -”

“Stairlift?!” They turned to find Louise staring at them, looking disgusted. “I don't want an old grandpa stairlift! I want a podium that rises from the restaurant up through the living room floor. With music and smoke effects.” Bob couldn't help himself as a high pitched chuckle escaped his lips. “Yeah, um, we can't afford that,” he said. Anderson opened his mouth, and Bob continued, “we'll just carry her, and the crutches will help, right?”

“Right,” Anderson agreed, the three of them looking over at Louise.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Cabell came into the room and sat down next to her bed.

“So, Louise,” he began, “your parents' think it might be good for you to have a little talk with someone about your time in the well.” Louise eyed him.

“You mean a therapist?”

“Yes.”

“Why would I need to see a therapist?”

“Well, what you went through was quite traumatic, and we just want to make sure you're dealing with it all okay.”

“I'm fine,” Louise grinned widely at him. “So I really don't need one.”

“Talking about it really helps.”

“What would I need to talk about? I know what happened; you know what happened, everybody knows what happened.”

“We want to help you; we all want to help you.”

“Help?” Louise pulled a face. “A little late for that, don't you think? Unless you have a time machine? Do you have a time machine?”

“No. We don't have that technology yet.”

“Well, call me when you do.”

“Louise, your family really feel that talking to someone will be really beneficial to you.”

“They know nothing,” Louise waved her hand casually. What could they possibly know?

“Well, have a think about it,” he encouraged, and Louise rolled her eyes. “There's lots of support out here, waiting for you. We all want you to get better, and this is one way we can help you.”

“I don't think so,” she fixed him with a steely look.

“Alright; well, it is your decision, and we won't force you. If you change your mind, the offer still stands.”

“See ya later, Doc!” Louise called after his retreating form.

* * *

Every evening before bed, Louise and Bella were allowed to watch a movie, taking it in turns. Along with the cutesy animes, Louise also hated the cute, princess Disney films, which were the cause of many an argument with Bella, who adored them.

“Not _Cinderella_ again!” she moaned that evening; it was Bella's turn to choose, and she had picked her favourite movie.

“I like it.”

“You watch it _every_ day!”

“Louise,” said Mandy, “you both take turns; it's only fair. You got pick the morning's cartoons, so Bella gets to pick tonight. Tomorrow, you can pick the movie.”

“But she picks the same thing every time!”

“You don't have to watch it, Louise,” said Judith. “You can always go to sleep.”

“Just want a bit of variety; is that too much to ask?” Louise scowled, folding her arms.

“Bella's not doing any harm by watching her favourite movie,” said Judith. Louise didn't answer her, and instead lay down on her pillows, reaching for Kuchi Kopi. She couldn't have slept even if she wanted to, not with Cinderella's stupid singing filling the room. Louise could only scowl once again, and talk to Kuchi, ignoring the throbbing pain in her feet. She would get her revenge. She was going to choose _“Watership Down”_ for her movie. Repeatedly. Louise loved the film and had done ever since she was a small child. She couldn't understand why people claimed it frightened them, but she knew that a lot of children were terrified of it. That would show Bella. Nothing wrong with choosing her favourite movie, right?

Later that evening, Bella was awoken by a thud, and she sat up, rubbing her eyes. The television was off, and the room was dark. Reaching over, she switched on the lamp on her bedside table, looking for the source of the noise, and soon found it. Louise's night light, that funny-looking green thing, was on the floor. Kuchi something. Bella was about to pick it up when she noticed Louise fidgeting slightly. The older girl's brows were furrowed, and she was twitching.

“Mandy?” Bella whispered loudly, wondering whether or not to press the call button. “Mandy?” she called a little bit louder, looking over at the other bed.

“Dad... Daddy,” Louise muttered, fidgeting even more.

Bella looked at the door as Mandy entered.

“What is it, honey?” she asked kindly.

“I think Louise is having another bad dream,” Bella pointed, and Mandy looked at the restless girl, who was moaning quietly.

“Alright; thanks for letting me know. You go on back to sleep now; I'll sort Louise out,” Mandy coaxed, and Bella lay back down on her pillows, and the nurse covered her over, before making her way over to the other bed. Bella did not instantly go to sleep; instead, she curled up on her side and watched curiously. Mandy picked up Kuchi Kopi, and placed it on Louise's bed, kneeling down. “Louise?” she whispered. She adjusted the night light, tucking it into the crook of Louise's arm, and the little girl immediately latched onto it. The toy did little to soothe her however, as Louise continued to fidget and whimper. “It's all right, Louise,” she said quietly, placing her hand on the girl's head, just as she had done most every night. Louise would be fine; Mandy knew from experience that she would calm soon, and then would sleep easy for the rest of the night. It was just a matter of getting her there.

This time, however, Louise woke up. She sat up slightly, and Bella quickly closed her eyes.

“I – oh,” Louise looked around her, realisation settling in. She ducked her head slightly, not looking Mandy in the face.

“It's all right,” the nurse repeated. “You just had another bad dream.”

“No, I didn't,” Louise stuck out her jaw defiantly, lying back down. “I don't have bad dreams.”

“It's nothing to be ashamed of,” said Mandy kindly. “Everyone has them.”

“Not me. What time is it?” Louise squinted at the clock, trying to make out the numbers. “After midnight. Why did you come in here and wake me up? Do I have to be moved undercover?”

“No,” Mandy smiled.

“Is there a top-secret agent in here looking for me?”

“If there is, I haven't seen him,” the nurse chuckled.

“Well, then, why did you wake me up? I need my sleep, you know.” 

“I was just doing my job and checking on you. As you're fine, you can go back to sleep now.”

“Good,” Mandy smiled once again, as Louise made herself comfortable, not allowing the nurse to tuck her in; instead doing it herself.

“Goodnight, Louise,” said Mandy at the door, and Louise grunted in response.

Mandy wasn't annoyed; she'd dealt with kids like Louise before. They were just embarrassed, and Mandy knew that she had to pick her battles. In this case, it was mainly making sure that her patient was comfortable, and was able to get a good nights' sleep.

* * *

The next day, Bob arrived to visit her, while Linda watched the restaurant, and Gene and Tina were at school. He had some cards and packages for Louise, thinking it might cheer her up, and motivate her to get better.

“What's all that?” she asked, pushing her lunch aside.

“Some cards, and stuff people have sent you,” Bob set them down on her bedside table and took a seat.

“Oh, cool,” she reached out, and naturally took the biggest package, which had been the one Mike had given to him. Ripping off the brown paper, her eyes widened in delight and amazement. “Oh, my God!” she cried, holding it aloft. “It's the complete Hawk and Chick Collectors box set!”

“Oh, my God!” Bob leaned forward. It was the same box set they had seen advertised countless times. All 14 movies, completely restored and remastered, with the original dubbing, and optional English subtitles, and dozens of bonus features, including deleted scenes, out-takes, and interviews with Shinji and Yuki. It was everything they had ever dreamed of.

While Bob was gushing over the beautiful box set, a handwritten note had fallen out, and Louise was reading it.

“Dad! Dad!” Not taking her eyes off the paper, Louise reached out and slapped his arm. “It's from Koji!” Her eyes were bright, and she was grinning widely.

“What is it?”

“He says he and Yuki are making one last Hawk and Chick movie! And – wait, there's more -!” she cut off Bob's excited shriek, “they're inviting us to the premiere in Japan! _Japan!”_ Louise threw up her arms and whooped in delight. “I can't believe it! I'm gonna go to Japan!”

“What does the rest of it say?”

“It says they're inviting us, because it's thanks to us that they reunited – I told you it would work – and that it's gonna be in October! In _Japan!_ Oh, we can see everything!” Louise was breathless with excitement, but Bob was coming down from his high. Even though they'd been invited to the premiere, that was it, just the premiere. He didn't expect Koji to fly them out, and put them up somewhere. His heart sank a little as he realised he wouldn't be able to afford it.

He looked down at his daughter, happily listing off the things she wanted to see, and made up his mind. He was going to do his best to do this for her. This was her dream come true, and Bob realised that it could be just what she needed to motivate herself. “So, anyway,” Louise's voice broke into his thoughts, “we _are_ going; I'm not taking no for an answer; even if I have to stow away in a stranger's suitcase. But we're going. Of course we are, and one of the things we _definitely_ have to do is find some of the movie locations and visit them. How cool would that be?”

“It would be very cool,” he agreed, before taking a deep breath. “Hopefully, you'll be walking by then.” Louise drooped slightly, but did not say anything. “Louise, I'll make you a deal,” and she looked up at him. “If you do your best in here, co-operating in physical therapy, learning how to walk again, then I'll do my best to take you to Japan.”

For a moment, Louise just stared at him, and then she held out her hand.

“Deal,” she smiled, and Bob shook her hand, looking into her beaming face. He would find a way to make it happen.

* * *

True to her word, Louise began to participate in her physical therapy sessions, and did her absolute best to get better. She was more determined than she ever had been; it had been her biggest dream to go to Japan, and damn if she was going to miss out.

Much to Bob's surprise, Linda, Gene, and Tina had all begged to go.

“I'm not missing an opportunity to walk down the red carpet!” Gene had said, already practising his walk and his wave.

“And I wanna get all dressed up, and be photographed!” Linda cried.

“I wanna go, too, Dad,” said Tina, “I'll bet Japanese boys have really nice butts.”

“Fine, you can all go,” Bob had said, figuring it would be okay with Koji and Yuki. The letter had said “family”, and they had all helped reunite the father and daughter, so Bob couldn't see a problem with it. Well, apart from the whole “having money to afford it” thing. Bob had been looking online for cheap plane tickets, and he had managed to find (with Mort's help) a pretty good deal of just under $1,000 for the five of them. Now, he just needed $1,000. And money for a hotel room. And food. And travel. And souvenirs; he knew Louise wouldn't let them leave without a few trinkets. So, all in all, he would need at least $3,000. Which he didn't have; he barely had $300.

“Maybe we could use that crowdfunding site,” Linda had suggested one evening, as they both sat at the kitchen table, struggling to figure out how to raise the money.

“Maybe,” Bob wasn't too keen on the idea. “It just feels like begging, Lin.”

“Well, we could explain what the trip means to Louise, and how she needs it.”

“Yeah, but people have already donated money to her; it just feels wrong to ask for more.”

“Yeah, I see your point. But if Louise doesn't go, it'll crush her.”

“I know, Lin. We'll get the money somehow,” said Bob. “Maybe if business continues the way it has been, we'll have enough.”

“I could do bake sales,” Linda suggested, “and sell some of my Grazielda figurines. You could knit scarves and sell them. Gene and I could do a spot of busking. Ooh, a car wash!” She began writing them all down. “We'll have that money in no time, Bobby!”

* * *

It had been a week since Koji's note, and Louise had been working very hard, and she was exhausted. The doctors' had told her it was normal, because she hadn't used much energy for a while. Still, she was determined to be on crutches before the month was up. Again, they had been working on her arm strength, and getting her to lift and bend her legs, because her doctors didn't want her standing yet.

She had also learnt how to clean her stumps, which she wasn't thrilled about. Truthfully, she didn't do a very good job, because she still couldn't bear to look at her feet, but it was thought best to give Louise some independence, and let her do things for herself.

She did all of this in-between juggling her many visitors; Big Bob came again, and so did Teddy. Mort came to see her, and so did Mickey.

What seemed like every person who assisted in the rescue came to visit her; none of whom she knew. Chiefs Richards and Davis, Tim and Charlie, Douglas, along with a lot the drillers, and several others all came to see her. It made Louise feel good and important; nobody else had this many visitors. So many people had signed her cast that she barely had any room left.

Of course, the best part was that they all brought her gifts. Most of them brought her candy, which was a surefire way to get on Louise's good side. She received gummy bears, Jolly Ranchers, Twizzlers, lots of chocolate, jelly babies, and her favourite, gummy sharks. Well, they were actually dolphins, but Louise liked to pretend they were sharks. She even received a Kuchi Kopi T-shirt. Others brought her plush toys (she was beginning to run out of space on her bed); she got a few Totoro plushies, a plush Haku in dragon form from _Spirited Away,_ and a fair few people bought her rabbit plushies, all different colours and sizes. Of course, as many of them did not know her, they naturally assumed she liked rabbits, due to her hat. Louise did indeed like rabbits, mainly due to _Watership Down;_ she liked how they looked innocent, but were really vicious. Just like her, Linda had said once.

She had so many visitors that the nurses jokingly referred to them as the 300 Wise Men, because there were so many of them, and they all brought gifts.

* * *

“Alright, Louise,” said Mandy that evening. “It's your night to pick the movie. What'll it be? _'Toy Story'_ again? Or _'Return to Oz'_?” She was drawing the curtains, while the two girls made themselves comfortable in their beds.

“No, I wanna watch _'Watership Down'_ ,” she said.

“Louise, you want to watch _'Watership Down'_ , what?” said Judith, and Louise stared at her for a second, before realising what she meant.

“I want to watch _'Watership Down'_ , _please_ ,” she said through gritted teeth. Judith had been doing that practically every single time Louise spoke, and frankly, she was getting annoyed with it. But, with Judith, if Louise didn't do what the elder woman wanted, then Louise got nothing. At least, not until she said 'please,' and 'thank you.' For Judith was big on manners; but then, she was from the olden days, when the world was in black-and-white, and everyone spoke old-fashioned. Louise strongly felt that the nurse desperately needed to get into the 21st century, with the rest of them.

“That's better,” Judith smiled.

“What's _'Watership Down'_ about? I've never seen it?” asked Bella.

“It's about cute widdle bunnies looking for a new home,” Louise's voice dripped with sarcasm, but Bella did not catch it.

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

“Oh, it is,” Louise grinned. She lay back contentedly against her pillows, and turned Kuchi Kopi to face the screen, as Mandy placed the DVD in the player. Her grin grew wider as the film started.

She and Bella watched the film silently, while Judith and Mandy bustled about, checking the machines, making sure they had drinks, getting them to take their medicine. For once, Louise did not fuss about taking her iron supplement, and her vitamins. Well, that much. At least the vitamins were chewy, but she hated swallowing the iron tablet. Why did she need iron inside her, anyway? It wasn't like she was going to grow up to be Iron Man. Too boring for her; she was going to grow up to be Louise Belcher, Unquestioned Master of the Universe.

Out of the corner of her eye, Louise could see Bella's face fall at the bullying rabbits on screen, and she fought to keep her face neutral as Fiver had a scary vision of the field filling with blood. Unable to help herself, she glanced over at Bella, who looked frightened, and grinned widely. Mandy and Judith soon left for the nurses' station, where they could write up their reports, while also keeping a watchful eye on their patients.

“I don't think I like this,” said Bella in a small voice.

“Well, I do,” Louise turned her attention back to the television. “I haven't seen this for a long time; I think that's it for the scary parts,” she lied, and Bella relaxed.

“Oh, good; that was scary. All that blood,” she pulled a face, reaching out for her doll. Of course, the film got more intense; or even better, according to Louise, and by the time Bigwig was caught in the snare, Bella looked deeply upset. “No; I don't like this. I really don't like this,” she insisted, her face hidden behind her hands. Louise threw her a withering look, but said nothing.

“Right, Louise, I think we should turn it off now,” said Judith, entering the room.

“Why?”

“Because it's scaring Bella, and that's not fair.”

“I like this movie.”

“But Bella doesn't.”

“Oh, but it's okay for her to watch movies that I don't like?” Louise crossed her arms.

“That's not the same; this is too violent.”

“And Cinderella is too annoying. No difference to me.”

“If Cinderella scared you, I wouldn't allow Bella to watch it,” said Judith, crossing the room to grab the remote control.

“I wanna watch the rest!” Louise insisted.

“Louise, it's too scary.”

“It can't be! It's in the kids' section; it's got a kids' rating, so how can it be too scary?”

“Louise -” Judith began, but Mandy walked in.

“What's the problem here?” she asked.

“Judith wants to turn off my favourite movie!” Louise pointed at the nurse, frowning.

“It's not age-appropriate,” Judith explained.

“Yes, it is!” Louise snapped. “It's for kids!” Mandy said nothing and walked over to get the DVD case.

“It's rated a “U”,” she said, holding it up. “So, it is for children.”

“It's far too bloody and violent,” Judith protested.

“I don't like it,” Bella repeated.

“You don't have to watch it,” said Louise, her eyes glinting, looking Judith directly in the eye. “You can just go to sleep.” The corners of her mouth twitched.

“Alright, come on Bella; lie down,” Mandy quickly diffused the situation, and walked over to Bella. “We'll draw the curtains, and you can just go to sleep, okay?” Bella only nodded, clutching her favourite doll in a vice grip.

“Mandy...” said Judith.

“Well, the girls take turns, and the movie is rated for all ages. The movie will be finished soon, and then they'll go to sleep.”

“Alright, if you think that's best,” said Judith, in a tone that revealed she clearly didn't think so, and she left the room.

Louise resumed watching the film, grinning triumphantly.

* * *

It was a Saturday, and they were going to try a wheelchair transfer for the first time. Bob and Linda were there, while Teddy was watching Gene and Tina. The nurses had been very strict about the no-more-than-two-visitors-at-a-time policy, which was the cause of many an argument between Louise and Judith, but the nurse stood firm.

“Don't you understand that this is... _detrimental_ to my recovery!” Louise had recently said to her, smugly.

“Louise, you don't even know what that word means,” said Judith, writing on her clipboard.

“Yes, I do! I used it properly,” Louise informed her.

“The answer is still no, Louise. No more than two visitors at a time; it's not my rule, it's the hospital's.”

“But you work for the hospital, so you can change the rules, right?”

“Even if I could, it wouldn't be fair. If I changed them just for you, I'd have to change them for everyone.”

“So?”

“It can't be done; we'd have no space to reach the patients. If something happened, we need to be there instantly, and we can't do if they're completely surrounded.”

“Yeah, but can't -”

“The answer is no, Louise,” Judith said, ending the conversation. Louise, very used to getting her own way, was rather shocked, and could only scowl.

“That child!” Judith rolled her eyes at Mandy as they stood together later in the nursing station. “I've never known such a stubborn child.”

“She certainly is wilful,” Mandy agreed, focusing on writing her report.

“It'll come back to bite her in the rear, you mark my words.”

“Perhaps.”

“You know; it's partly the parents' fault.” At this, Mandy looked up at her superior.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because they coddle her to no end, and give her her own way in everything. They spoil her.”

“Well, can you really blame them?” Mandy argued. “Their youngest spent five days in well, and is in hospital. It can't be easy for any of them.”

“They don't discipline her; they don't make her do things. She wants to go home, well, she's got to work harder at it. The parents' don't seem to realise that.”

“Come on; she's been through a terrible ordeal. I think they're just babying her because they almost lost her.” Judith sighed.

“When you get to my age, you'll understand what I'm talking about.”

* * *

Louise was sat in her bed, while her parents and Dr Anderson stood at the foot, and a wheelchair was at her right side. Anderson was holding what looked like a large plank of wood in his hands.

“Now, Louise, this is quite simple,” he began. “This is a sliding board, and this'll help you get into the wheelchair.” He collapsed one side of the wheelchair, the side nearest to her, and placed one end of the board on the seat, and the other on the edge of the bed, next to her. “If you lean to your left, I'll slide the board underneath you, and then you just slide along to the wheelchair, and when you're in, we'll go back to the bed.”

“What's the rubber ring for?” Louise pointed to the small, inflatable ring on the seat.

“For your back; this will ensure you don't put too much weight on your tail bone.” 

The whole thing sounded simple enough, but Louise found it extremely difficult. She suddenly seemed to have gotten very heavy. There was a sharp pain in her lower back when she moved, enough to make her never want to move again.

She used her hand to move herself along the board, sliding bit by bit, before she finally made it to the chair, panting slightly. She was allowed to rest for a moment, before she had to transfer herself back into bed.

By the time she was done, Louise could only collapse against her pillows, where she slept for the next three hours.

* * *

Over the next few days, Louise continued to work at her physical therapy, and she grew more and more tired, and was feeling really run down. Instead of getting better and more energetic, she just seemed to get more and more sluggish. She had also developed a cough.

At that moment, she was lying in bed, Kuchi Kopi tucked under one arm, with the blanket pulled up to her chin.

Linda and Dr Anderson arrived together.

“Louise? Are you okay, baby?” Linda bent down next to her daughter.

“Just wanna sleep,” she muttered, not opening her eyes, as Linda pressed her hand against her forehead.

“You don't have a temperature,” she said. “How do you feel?”

“Tired. And cold. And I can't stop coughing. And everything aches.”

“Aww, my poor baby. I think you're coming down with a cold.” She tucked the blankets closer around Louise. “All right, sweetie, you just stay there and sleep; you're not doing physical therapy today.” Her protective mama bear instincts were coming out; her baby wasn't going anywhere or doing anything while she was sick.

Luckily, Anderson readily agreed, and said he would come back in a few days; Louise would hopefully be feeling better.

As the days went on, Louise got sicker and sicker. She had an unpleasant chesty cough, her appetite had disappeared, she had a slight fever, she was very lethargic and sweated profusely. She hadn't eaten anything for a couple of days.

She was being given antibiotics, and lots of fluids, and rest, but did not appear to be getting any better. Bob and Linda wanted nothing more than to stay with her at night, but they were not allowed. They reasoned that she was in the best place, but it didn't make them feel any better. It seemed that whenever Louise made progress, something came along to halt it.

It was now almost the end of March, and Louise was still sick. It was late at night, and she was unable to sleep. She was freezing, despite the extra blanket Mandy had given her. She was curled up on her side, shivering and clutching Kuchi Kopi. Her head hurt, her eyes hurt, her throat hurt, her chest hurt; everything hurt. Her feet were causing her so much pain she felt like screaming. She coughed again, wheezing, as it turned into a hacking coughing fit.

“Dad?” she croaked, when it had subsided. She didn't lift her head off the pillow, or even open her eyes. She heard nothing. “Daddy?” she tried, calling a little bit louder. That would send him running.

The lamp was switched on, and Louise groaned, bringing a clammy hand up to her eyes. She heard shoes on the tile floor, and remembered that she was in hospital, and she heard a nurse approaching her. _'Please be Mandy,'_ she thought, not having the energy to deal with Judith's abrasiveness.

“What's the matter, Louise?” Crap. It was Judith.

“I don't feel good,” she muttered, keeping her eyes closed.

“Don't feel good how?”

“I'm cold, and I have a bad head, and I can't stop coughing, and my feet hurt, and everything hurts.” Kneeling down, Judith pressed the back of her hand to Louise's sweaty forehead.

“You're burning up,” Judith quickly grabbed a thermometer, paging Mandy. She eased the thermometer under the lethargic girl's tongue as Mandy entered the room. “Dampen a cloth in cool water,” she instructed the junior nurse, before removing the thermometer. “104 degrees,” she read aloud. Judith pulled back the blankets as Mandy returned, and together they dabbed the cool cloths on Louise's forehead, the inner sides of her wrists, and the back of her neck.

“I want my Dad,” mumbled Louise, appearing oblivious to the cloths.

“We can't do that right now, sweetie,” said Mandy kindly.

“Why not?”

“It's after one in the morning; he's asleep.”

“Wake him up.”

“He'll be here in the morning.”

“Get him.”

“Louise,” said Mandy softly, as Judith got up to get some antibiotics, “your parents need to sleep. Tell you what, you try and go to sleep; just a little nap, and I'll give them a call. But only if you go to sleep, okay?”

“I can't sleep.”

“This will help you,” said Judith, holding a glass of water with some Tylenol mixed in. Louise, usually averse to taking any kind of medicine, reached out a shaking hand, and downed the drink, coughing again.

When she had fallen asleep, the two nurses continued trying to cool her down, before unwrapping the bandages at her feet. Her feet were hot, swollen, and red. “Infection,” said Judith.

Louise's stubbornness had come at a price.

* * *

The next morning, Bob and Linda were awoken by the phone ringing, and Bob answered it.

“Hello?” he said groggily, rubbing his eyes.

“ _Hello, Mr Belcher?”_

“Yeah?” He vaguely recognised the voice on the other end, but couldn't place it.

“ _Hi, this is Mandy Fraser; I'm one of the nurses looking after Louise.”_ Now Bob was sat up straight, and Linda was leaning closer so that she could hear. _“I'm just calling to let you know that Louise has a high fever, and her residual limbs have become infected. She's okay, and she's sleeping now, but I just thought I'd let you know.”_

“Okay,” Bob hung up, and immediately started getting dressed.

“What's the matter, Bobby?”

“Louise is really sick,” he told her, and her face fell. “They said she has a fever, and her stumps are infected!”

“Oh, my God! Is she okay?”

“They said she's fine, but let's get down there anyway.” Even though it was a Friday, they woke the kids' up, not caring about school.

When they arrived, with a confused looking Gene and Tina behind them, Louise was still asleep, looking a bit worse for wear. She wasn't wearing her precious bunny ears, which was how Bob and Linda knew she was really sick; even in sleep, she was able to sense when they had been removed. Louise wouldn't willingly take her hat off even if you offered her 10 billion dollars.

Her face was flushed and sweaty, her hair was stuck to her head, and she was shivering. They had removed her blankets and covered her with only a thin sheet.

“Her fever's still at 104 degrees,” Judith told them, “and we've started an IV to give her antibiotics for her infection. Ever since we took her hat off, she's not sweating as much.”

“Is she gonna be all right?” asked Linda, her face drawn.

“She'll be fine,” Mandy assured her, “we listened to her chest with a stethoscope last night, and it does sound like pneumonia. We're going to run a few tests later today just to be sure.”

“Pneumonia? How did she get that?”

“The virus is quite easily spread. We believe that her immune system was compromised from being in the well, and being in the sterile ICU kept her healthy,” said Mandy. “We think that her moving to the HDU might have been too much for her system to cope with. It's also possible that one or more of her visitors was ill, and she caught it. Someone could have come in with a cough or cold and spread the bacteria. It could have come from anyone.”

“How did she get an infection?” asked Bob.

“It's very likely due to her stumps not being properly cared for,” said Judith. “Ever since Louise started cleaning them herself, she was determined to do it all by herself. But infections from amputation are very common, so it might not have been anything she'd done.”

Louise remained asleep for most of the day, while Bob and Linda took control over caring for her; they applied the cold compresses, and they sat next to her bed, soothing her.

When Louise did wake up, she was unable to do much except cough, groan, and shiver. It was awful listening to her rattling, wheezing breaths.

Later on in the afternoon, a portable X-ray machine was brought into the room, just so they could confirm that it was pneumonia. If it wasn't, well, then, there were to be more tests, more antibiotics, and a longer hospital stay.

“Did we make Louise sick?” asked Tina, looking worried.

“No,” Bob assured her. “No, this is just something that happened. She'll be fine.”

“I want her to come home,” said Gene.

“Me, too,” said Bob.

* * *

The results came back a few days later; it was pneumonia. Bob and Linda worked closely with the doctors to help their daughter get better; they would take turns holding her in their arms, and doing their best to rock her to sleep.

Louise had been moved to a single room, not only to help her improve, but to prevent Bella, who had been fitted for a pacemaker, from getting ill, as well. Mandy and Dr Cabell were her carers.

As the days went by, Louise seemed to be improving slightly; her fever was down to 102; she would wake up and talk, albeit punctuated by coughing fits, but she still wasn't eating.

At that moment, on the first Wednesday in April, Louise was dozing, while Bob and Linda sat beside her. She had recently started eating again.

They had been keeping the restaurant closed over the past couple of days, just until Louise was a bit better. Bob had gone into Louise's room and had gotten her collection of Kuchi Kopi books. He had been reading them to her, and was now on book 3: “Kuchi Kopi and the Battle for Heiwa.” Her eyes were closed, but he knew she was awake and listening.

“As Kuchi Kopi made his way down the weathered path, toward the Kingdom of Yujo, he knew that this might be his only chance. For if the Kirai did not accept his peace offering, life in Kofuku would change forever.”

As Bob continued reading, the story was interrupted by another coughing fit, and he and Linda instantly sprang into action. Bob gently lifted her head, so she could breathe easier, and Linda grabbed a glass of water with a straw and held it to Louise's mouth. The girl took a few grateful sips, before collapsing back down onto her pillow. It had been just over three weeks, since she first started feeling run-down, and Bob and Linda were hoping that she had to be over the worst of it by now.

As Bob resumed his seat, Louise groaned, and pushed herself up onto her elbow.

“Hey, sweetie,” said Linda gently, stroking Louise's forehead. The bunny ears were kept close just in case Louise realised she no longer had them on. Louise's eyes bulged, and Linda backed away just in time as her daughter vomited all over the floor.

Mandy came running over, but she wasn't quick enough, as Louise vomited again. Linda moved even further back, gagging.

Louise threw up five more times, before she again collapsed onto her bed, her arm dangling over the edge, and Mandy began the task of cleaning it up.

By the time Bob had moved forward to clean her up, Louise had fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Louise; she just can't catch a break, can she?  
> What did you think? Let me know!
> 
> A little translation for the Kuchi Kopi story, if you were interested: Heiwa means "peace", Yujo means "friendship," Kirai means "hate," and Kofuku means "happiness."
> 
> Side note: who watched the latest episode? I had to chuckle when Zeke said to Rudy, about his cast, "they should lower you down wells to find lost kids."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone, I'm back with another chapter for you. I hope you enjoy reading.

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 11

_The Oceanside Times_

_April 6 th, 2019_

“ _A press conference in which Louise Belcher was due to speak to the media has been postponed, due to the little girl falling ill._

_Doctors have said that Louise became ill with pneumonia, and another infection following a surgery, after she was moved out of the intensive care unit, where she had been recovering from injuries sustained from falling into a well. She is now in a private room, so that she is able to recuperate._

_Bob and Linda Belcher have said that Louise is doing well otherwise._

“ _She's really improving,” said Linda in a phone call to anchor Olsen Benner. “She's moving around, and learning how to get in and out of her wheelchair, and she can't wait to go home.”_

_Louise, nine, was pushed into an abandoned well by a teenage boy on Friday the 22 nd of February, and was rescued five days later, on Wednesday the 27th. Since then, she has been hospitalised at Ocean City Memorial Hospital, recovering from dehydration, hypothermia, a broken ankle, a fractured coccyx, and constricted circulation to her arms and legs._

_When Louise is better, the conference will go ahead as planned, and will also include a doctors' update on her condition._

_Donations for her hospital care can be sent to the Louise Belcher Fund on Just Giving.”_

Less than two weeks after that snippet had been published, Louise was finally on the mend. She was able to keep food down, and her cough had gone. Her stumps were looking a lot better, as well.

Slowly, but surely, she was getting back into physical therapy, being careful to take it easy.

Fortunately, she had been in such a medicated haze, she hadn't felt much pain over the past few weeks, so Bob and Linda could at least be grateful for that.

Bob and Linda had been keeping busy at home, as well as at the hospital, still working hard to raise money for Japan.

Linda had already sold two of her precious Grazielda figurines, at $125 each, so that was an extra $250 in the pot. True to her word, she had set up an online shop for Bob, and he knitted scarves on his free evenings; he was beginning to master different colour patterns, and tassels on the end. When he had a decent amount, he would start selling them, and Linda said that he could start making sweaters and socks.

All of their tip money went into the Japan pot; Bob noticed that Teddy and Mort were tipping a lot more than they needed to. At that moment, they had almost $500.

The parents began to think that they could actually do it. If they kept this up, they might just actually go to Japan.

* * *

Tina and Gene were back at school, where pretty much everything had gone back to normal. It was their last day before spring break, and everyone was looking forward to being off school, and travelling with their families.

Tina and Gene were standing near Tina's locker, along with Jimmy Jr., Zeke, Tammy, Jocelyn, Courtney, Alex Papasian, and Regular-sized Rudy.

“So, we're taking a cruise to the Bahamas,” Tammy was saying, leaning up against the lockers. “I can't wait to see all the Bahamian boys!”

“Oh, my God, you're so lucky! We're only going to Six Flags,” said Jocelyn.

“We're going to Cooperstown,” said Jimmy Jr., earning a quiet moan from Tina. Just once, she wanted him to stay behind, so she could spend some time with him.

“We're just going to stay here,” said Regular-sized Rudy. “Hey,” he turned to the Belcher siblings, “will Louise be home before spring break is over?”

“Not sure,” said Gene. “She's not sick any more, but now she's gotta learn to walk again.”

“What?” came Zeke's voice, and the rest of the group turned to face them. “Girl's been in there for more'n a month; what's she been doin'?”

“Well, she's been ill for more than three weeks, and before that, she was doing physical therapy,” said Tina. “But for ages, she refused.”

“Yeah, sounds like Louise,” muttered Jimmy Jr.

“So, is she allowed visitors?” asked Regular-sized Rudy. Tina hesitated, wondering if she could explain without making it complicated.

“Uhhh, she doesn't really want them,” she said.

“Who wouldn't want visitors in the hospital?” said Tammy, not bothering to look up from her phone. Tina shrugged.

“It's Louise,” was all she said.

“Oh, okay,” said Rudy. “Well, could you give her this?” he reached into his backpack, and pulled out a small box, wrapped in colourful paper. “I was gonna give it to her myself, but if she doesn't want visitors...” he trailed off, handing the box to Tina. It was very light, and she wondered what was in it.

Assembly that day was interesting, to say the least.

“Settle down, kids,” said Mr Frond, as the students dithered about in the sports hall. “Settle down.” When it was reasonably quiet, he spoke once again. “As you may know, one of our students, Louise Belcher, is in hospital, and will hopefully be returning to school soon.” Gene and Tina exchanged glances; they didn't know why Frond was speaking about this. That morning, he had pulled them aside, and asked when Louise was coming home, and they had truthfully told him that they didn't know. “Due to the injuries she has, she'll be returning in a wheelchair.” Although Frond wasn't too bright; he, along with the other teachers knew that Louise had a broken ankle. It was easy to put two and two together. “Therefore, I want you all to come up with some fundraising ideas so that we can get a ramp.”

Gene and Tina looked around as lots of hands shot into the air.

“Pyjama day?” suggested Regular-sized Rudy. “We all come to school in our pyjamas?”

“Wrestlin' tournament?” yelled Zeke, jumping on Jimmy Jr's back. “I'm gon' git ya!”

“Car wash?” was the suggestion from Andy and Ollie.

“Obstacle course, movie night, colour run, talent show, treasure hunt, dress-up day, that one where you fill a jar with jellybeans and you have to guess how many there are, karaoke contest.” Said Millie in one quick breath. Gene and Tina were flabbergasted; they had been keeping away from her ever since they returned to school. Even though Millie only liked Louise, she still did her best to hunt down the Belcher siblings. Millie had already 'thoughtfully' left them giant get-well cards for Louise, placed inside their lockers, depicting her and Louise as best friends. It was creepy, to say the least, and so they had kept well out of Millie's line of sight.

“Well, those are some very good ideas,” muttered Frond, jotting them all down on the blackboard. “Okay, myself and the other teachers will review all of these, and when we get back from spring break, we'll use the best ones.”

Once they left assembly, Millie sprang up on the Belchers'.

“Hey, guys! How's Louise doing?” she grinned, causing them both to jump and scream.

“She's fine,” said Tina warily.

“Oh, that's good. I mean, that's _really_ good.” Her grin grew wider, if that was possible. “Hey, has Louise gotten any of my gifts? What does she think of them? Does she like the outfit I made her?”

“Uhhh,” Tina tried to think of an excuse. “She's – uhhh...” Of course, anything that arrived for Louise with Millie's name on it got thrown away immediately. This included a large stack of cards and letters, and lots of packages in all shapes and sizes. Tina did feel a little mean, but she had to remind herself that Millie was dangerous, and there could be something in these boxes that could hurt her little sister.

“She's not allowed any yet,” Gene cut in, “she's still sick, and they don't want to bring anything in that could spread any germs.”

“Oh, but my germs are good! My germs will help Louise get better. I wish you'd let me visit; I bet just seeing me would perk her _right_ up.”

“Got that right,” muttered Gene.

“Ooh, I have something else arriving for Louise! It should be at yours sometime next week!”

“What is it?” asked Tina hesitantly.

“It's a painting. I got Mom and Dad to pay for it; it looks amazing, and Louise can hang it in pride of place in her bedroom! Then I could get a matching painting done and hang it in pride of place in _my_ bedroom! Well, see ya!” Millie skipped joyfully down the hall, leaving Gene and Tina rather confused.

* * *

Back at the hospital, Linda was with Louise in her room. Louise was in a wheelchair, and Dr Anderson was also there. He was holding something small and blue in his hands.

“Louise, these are called shoe fillers; and, as you've probably guessed, they go inside your shoes. These will help you to balance when you stand and walk.”

The fillers looked, Louise thought, a lot like a backless shoe, or a doll's shoe. The main area was flat, but the part where she would have placed her foot, if it were a real shoe, was solid. “The edge of your foot will rest against this solid part,” Anderson told her, “and they're slightly weighted, so it will feel normal to you.”

As it had been more than a month since her amputations, Louise's feet were no longer bandaged, but she was wearing a loose, cotton sock on her right foot. She still had a cast on her left ankle. Slowly, she took the fillers and placed them into her slippers. Her feet were no longer swollen, but she didn't have any shoes, so she opted for her new Kuchi Kopi slippers – a gift from Pop-pop – to wear, as they covered her entire feet. Even though she still had her cast on, she was able to wear them. She was also wearing her own pyjamas; the doctor had suggested bringing in her own clothes, to make Louise more comfortable. Louise leapt at the chance to no longer wear her horrible hospital nightgown.

Once she had them on, the three of them went to the gym, so that Louise could try standing, and maybe taking a step or two.

Louise would be lying if she said she wasn't just a little bit nervous about this, but she said nothing. When she was situated in front of the parallel bars, Linda and Anderson helped her stand. It was difficult; Louise hadn't stood for a long, time, and it took a lot of effort. The shoe fillers were feeling really weird.

Placing her hands on the parallel bars, she took a deep breath and stepped forward. It was hard work; her legs felt stiff and heavy, but Louise took another step, allowing a small smile to cross her face.

“All right!” Linda whooped, clapping. “My little baby's walking again!” Louise did not say anything, but took another step. She had to pause, panting and sweating slightly, for she had not moved this much in ages.

“Great job, Louise,” smiled Anderson, when she walked a few more steps, “now see if you can get back into your wheelchair.”

“Do I turn around or go backwards?”

“That's up to you.” Louise opted to turn; at least she could see where she was going. She had to place both hands on one bar, and turn that way. She had to lean on her right leg to be able to reach over to the other bar, and then she was able to step forward. “Excellent,” Anderson grinned, when she had situated herself back into her wheelchair. It had been another awkward turn, but she had managed it. “I think that's enough for today; but we'll come back and work on this tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Linda, I'd like you and Bob to start learning how to lift her in and out of the chair soon, as well.”

“What?” Louise was looking at them. “I can do that by myself.”

“It's still a good idea for your parents to learn, just in case you're unable to,” Anderson told her.

“Yeah, that's never gonna happen.”

“Your ankle is still broken; and your parents will need to help move you from chair to chair, like into a car. You have to be careful not to knock your feet, and it doesn't hurt to have a second set of helping hands.”

“I'll be able to do that.”

“You will, in time,” Anderson agreed, “but in the meantime, it's good for them to learn.” Louise saw there was no dissuading him, and she made to wheel herself out of the room, but Linda grabbed the handles and took control of the wheelchair.

“Mom! I wanna do it!” Louise complained.

“Sorry, sweetie,” Linda let go of the wheelchair, and Louise resumed wheeling herself away. Linda, and Bob, knew it was good for Louise to learn how to control the wheelchair – she would need to for when she returned to school; they couldn't rely on Gene and Tina – but it was instinct for them to want to help out their children.

“Perhaps, in the future, we can consider prosthetics,” Anderson said, as they walked down the hall.

“Prosthetics? Fake toes?” Linda was confused.

“Well, in cases like these, a silicone model of the foot would be made, and it would go up past the ankle, like a trainer sock. The toes of the model would be weighted slightly, and it would look and feel like a real foot.”

“Huh, that's interesting. I'll talk to my husband, and we'll let you know.”

By the time she had returned to her room, school had let out, and Bob, Tina, and Gene were on their way to visit her. When they arrived, Louise was asleep.

“Is she sick again?” asked Gene, looking worried.

“No, honey,” said Linda quietly, “she's just had physical therapy; it tires her out.”

“Good; she's sleeping more than Snow White.”

“Gene, that's Sleeping Beauty,” said Bob.

“No, it's Snow White,” Gene reiterated, as they took their seats.

“No, it's definitely Sleeping Beauty. It's literally in the name.”

“Snow White ate the poison apple, and went to sleep.”

“Yeah, but Sleeping Beauty pricked her finger and slept for 100 years.”

“She's my little sleeping beauty,” said Linda, stroking Louise's temple. Of course, her bunny ears were back on; as soon as Louise began to improve, they had been placed straight on her head.

When she awoke about an hour later, Tina gave her the box Regular-sized Rudy had given her.

“This is from Regular-sized Rudy,” she said, handing over the little package. Louise opened the box and looked inside. “What?” Tina noticed that Louise had paused.

“It's the last three Slugadactyl cards,” Louise held them up. She straightened up a little. “Just what I needed! Now my collection is complete.” She grinned, placing the cards on her bedside table. “So, anything good happen at school today? A flood, was it hit by lightning?”

“Mr Frond told us the school is going to fundraise to get a wheelchair ramp,” said Tina. Linda and Bob looked touched, but Louise did not look impressed.

“I won't be in a wheelchair, right?” she looked over at her parents. “Right? I'll be walking.”

“Well, actually, sweetie,” Linda began, “the physical therapist said it would be best for you to do at least one week at school in your wheelchair. It'll be hard work, and you'll get tired easily.”

“No, I won't. I'm not going to school in a wheelchair!”

“Louise, you have to go back to school.”

“Not in a wheelchair!” They knew why she was so upset; before she'd headed off to physical therapy earlier, the nurse had told her she needed to have more surgery the following week. She needed more skin grafts on her back, as two of the largest wounds still hadn't fully closed. They were going to take more skin from her outer thigh and hip, and use that to cover up the wounds.

Louise wasn't happy about that; that meant more scars. She already had them on her arms, hands, legs, feet, thighs, hips, back, and bottom. And the little one on her stomach from her feeding tube. And now, more scars on her thighs and back. She felt like the only part of her body that wasn't scarred was her face.

Louise had managed to keep herself focused on her physical therapy session, but now she was brooding.

“We know you'll be whizzing around on crutches very soon,” said Linda, “but walking around the hospital is very different to doing a full day at school. We just wanna help you, sweetie.”

“Wheelchair, crutches, what's the difference? If Tina can do it, then I can.”

“Well, Tina's older than you,” said Bob, “plus, she just sprained her ankle.”

“I'll get the hang of it; I won't be needing a wheelchair.”

* * *

A few days later, it was time for her twice-weekly physical therapy session. Louise, determined to be out of her wheelchair as soon as possible, was sitting up on the edge of her bed.

The wheelchair was placed next to the bed, and Louise could swear it was taunting her. She could handle using it at home, but at school? No; she would not allow it to happen.

Both of her parents were there, and they were waiting for Dr Anderson to arrive. When he did, he got right to it, knowing that Louise did not like waiting around.

“So, Louise, what we're going to do today, is transfers,” he told her, and Louise folded her arms, looking annoyed.

“Don't need to do it,” she said.

“I know you don't; you've gotten great at moving from chair to chair,” he complimented. “But this is something your parents need to learn.”

“No, they don't.”

“They do, Louise. If they don't learn how to do this, they might lift you wrong, and they might accidentally hurt you.”

“They don't need to lift me; I can do it myself.”

“I'm afraid this is non-negotiable, Louise,” said Anderson, gently but firmly. Once again, Louise saw that she couldn't win on this one, and she huffed. “Right, Bob,” he turned to the man, “we'll start with you, if that's alright.”

“Uh, sure,” said Bob, hesitant about accidentally hurting his child. “What do I need to do?”

“First, put the brakes on, and collapse the right side of the wheelchair,” said the doctor, and Bob did so, surprised that it only took him three tries. “Good. Now, stand in front of Louise.” Again, Bob did so. “Bend down, and place your arms around her back, and lock your hands.” Anderson stood next to Bob, making sure he was doing it right. “Since you're going to be moving her over to your right, place your left knee in between her knees, and lock it. Good, then plant your feet firmly on the ground, and keep your back straight.”

“Then what?” asked Bob.

“Then you stand, slowly; lift with your legs. Louise, you'll need to put some weight in your legs, to help him out. Then, Bob, you pivot, keeping your back straight, and then gently lower her into the wheelchair.”

“Okay, then.” Bob counted to three in his head, and then made to lift his daughter. “Oh, God, she went limp,” he groaned. “Louise, work with me,” he grunted. Despite being so small, she could be very heavy when she wanted to be.

“I am,” she said, a slight smile playing on the corners of her mouth.

“Come on, Louise, just co-operate,” he said, straining to lift her carefully.

“Louise, you need to work with him,” said Anderson. He moved forward, but Bob was able to pivot, and he placed her in the wheelchair. “Okay. That was good, for a first time go. But Louise, you really need to help your parents out as much as you can on this. Don't go limp,” he told her. “Alright, Bob, we'll give you both a few moments, and then we can try putting her back onto the bed.”

“You shouldn't even be doing this, Dad! You're so old and frail!”

“I know,” he agreed. It was true; he had to face that. “But I'm going to do this.”

The second time went surprisingly smoothly; Louise had realised that it was going to happen, no matter how much she tried to prevent it. She figured that the sooner her parents learnt how to do it, the sooner they could stop, and she could carry on with lifting herself.

As it happened, both Bob and Linda had no more problems attempting to lift her.

* * *

A few days later, Louise was back to full health, and it was time for the press conference.

Gene and Tina were back at school, and both Bob and Linda were there with her.

“Before we start,” said Dr Cabell, “is there anything you don't want us to tell the reporters? It's completely up to you.”

“Don't mention a thing about amputations,” Louise ordered. “It never happened. And my hearing is fine.”

“Alright, you're the boss,” Cabell nodded.

After she moved herself into the wheelchair, a blanket was laid over her lap, and Louise was wheeled down to the conference room. The reporters were already there, and they smiled when she entered the room. She remained next to the stand, Linda and Bob on either side of her.

There were lots of reporters, all sitting in rows of chairs, and there were two large video cameras on each side of the room, both pointed at her. A flash indicated that her photo had been taken.

Many of the journalists had phones and tablets for note-taking.

Once introductions were out of the way, the conference officially begun.

“I've been helping to care for Louise since her admission here,” said Cabell. “And I'm pleased to say that her long-term prognosis is excellent. With luck, she'll be able to go home in about two weeks.”

“Is there anything keeping her in hospital for that long?” asked a journalist.

“Well, the pneumonia took a lot out of her; it really knocked her for six,” he revealed, while Louise bristled, but remained silent. “We just want her to regain some of the strength and fluids she lost during that period. Plus, she is scheduled for one more surgery next week.”

“What surgery is that?”

“A skin graft to cover some wounds on her back that haven't quite healed yet.”

“What surgeries has Louise had since being admitted here?”

“She's had fasciotomies in her arms, legs, hands, and feet, and she's had five rounds of debridement surgery to remove the dead tissue from her back, arms, and legs. We took tissue from her thighs and hips to cover the fasciotomy wounds on her back and limbs, and we replaced those with permanent skin grafts. Along with her broken ankle healing, Louise has recovered from her septicaemia, her kidney failure, and she's no longer dehydrated.”

“I've told them I wanna be out of here by Easter,” Louise said, causing them all to look at her. “I don't wanna miss out on Easter.”

“Right now, she's extremely stable,” said Cabell.

“How has she been throughout her stay?”

“For that first week, she slept almost constantly; she was really exhausted. When she woke up properly, she was very eager to move around, and a little bit grumpy. Sometimes a handful,” he smiled down at Louise, who smirked back at him. “She had oxygen therapy three times a day, which were to heal the restricted blood flow to her arms and legs.” Louise caught his eye; she was sure he was going to mention her bout of ICU psychosis, and she suddenly decided that she didn't want people to know about that. When he looked at her, she widened her eyes and shook her head slightly. Cabell seemed to understand, for he gave a little nod.

“And what about the possibility of amputation?” Cabell opened his mouth to respond, but Louise got there first.

“Didn't need to do it,” she said, and everyone turned to look at her again, “everything got fixed.”

“Once she moved to the HDU, she improved rapidly, until the pneumonia,” Cabell finished, before handing the floor to Bob and Linda.

“First of all,” Linda began, “we just wanna again thank everyone who helped to get our baby out. We can't thank you all enough.”

“It's great to have her back with us,” said Bob.

“How has this affected you all?”

“It's.. been hard,” Bob admitted, “knowing your child is trapped, and you can't help them, and then seeing them lying in a hospital bed; it's horrible. We just want to take her home, and get back to living our lives.”

“I try to focus on the fact that she survived,” said Linda. “I don't like to think about the time in the well; she's here with us, and that's all that matters.”

“Did you have faith that she would be okay?”

“My little Louise is a fighter,” Linda placed an arm on her daughter's shoulder. Louise was looking extremely bored; when were they going to stop talking about her, and actually start talking to her? “I knew she would fight to survive; she's strong, and we were right. She fought.”

“We're so grateful to everyone,” said Bob.

Now that they had finished speaking, the focus shifted to Louise. She was not at all uncomfortable with all of the cameras focused on her; she'd been on television before, this was no big deal.

“Louise, can you tell us a little bit about yourself?”

“Well, I'm nine, I go to Wagstaff School, I work in my dad's restaurant, and I like Japan,” she said, trying not to laugh at the dumb question.

“And what about the boy who pushed you in the well? How did you two meet?” Louise wasn't one to paint herself as a victim; she couldn't bear to have people look in pity at her. Still, anything that made Logan look like the bad guy (which he was) and get him out of her sight forever, couldn't be a bad thing.

“He and his friends took over the Steps, and wouldn't let anyone walk through,” she began. “Well, I walked through, and he started surrounding us, saying that we weren't allowed through.”

“Who's 'us'?”

“Me, my brother, and my sister. Anyway, the next day, we went through the Steps again, and he told us not to come around here, and he stole my hat,” Louise pointed to her treasured bunny ears.

“What happened after that? Logan says you hired a biker gang to cut off his ears.”

“Oh, I wouldn't do that!” she gasped, blinking her eyes; the picture of innocence. Louise, of course, had already been filled in about this from her parents. The only reasons she agreed to stick with the new story were to keep Critter out of jail, and to hopefully get Logan in jail.

“How did you get the hat back?”

“I just found it lying on the street somewhere; I can't really remember where.”

“Tell us what happened the day you fell in the well.”

“I was walking through the park, when he came up to me and said he wanted an apology.” Louise didn't know how much they knew.

“From when you threw the cantaloupe, yes?” called out a voice, and Louise nodded.

“That was an accident, and he came right up close to me, and said he was gonna do a wrestling move on me. He said he would teach me not to mess with him. Well, he pushed me hard, and I just stumbled backwards, and then I thought I'd stepped in a little rabbit hole, or something, but I just kept falling, and then everything was black. It felt like when you think there's one more stair,” Louise found that that was the only way she could describe it. “There's that moment when your foot slams down, and you feel like you're falling, and that's what it felt like, only I didn't stop falling.” That was exactly how she had felt when she had fallen; her foot had slammed into the empty air, causing her heart to skip a beat, and she had gasped. Next thing she knew, everything had gone black, and she'd begun to scream.

“What was your reaction to the cave-in?”

“I didn't really realise,” she revealed. “I was in a lot of pain; my foot and my back were hurting a lot. When I got to the bottom, I – it all happened so quickly; I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I was covered in the rubble. When I was falling, I tried to stop myself by pushing my elbows and hands against the sides, but it didn't work.”

“And what did you do, then?”

“I just started calling for help. I don't know how long it was before someone heard me, but I told them to get my dad, and I guess they got the diggers there.”

“What did you think when you saw all those people surrounding you when you were rescued?”

“Uh, I didn't know what was happening. I couldn't concentrate on anything; I didn't even really see them.”

“Do you remember anything about it?”

“I remember all of it. I remember it better now, though.”

“Have you seen the video of your rescue?”

“No.”

“Do you want to?”

“Not yet.”

“What was it like in the well?”

“... No comment.” Louise didn't want to speak of that, not ever.

There wasn't really much else to say, and so the conference was declared over, and the Belchers' went back to Louise's room. “Mom?” she asked. “Who took the video of the rescue?”

“Um, I don't know,” she answered. “The reporters, I guess.”

“Why?”

“Uh, well, they heard about it, and came to see what was happening.”

“They wanted to see you come up,” Bob told her. “Do you want to see the video? I'm sure they'll re-run it on TV, or we could probably find it online.”

“Nah, I'm good; I lived it. Have you seen it?”

“Yes,” said Bob and Linda nodded. “We were in the ambulance when they brought you up, so we didn't get to actually see you until you were in the ambulance.”

“Oh.”

“Hey, I have a question,” said Bob, once Louise was back in her room. “How much did you sleep in the well?” Louise tilted her head to the side.

“Not a lot,” she said, after thinking for a moment. “I didn't want to miss it when they reached me,” she said after a while.

“You would hear us calling you?” he asked, and she nodded. “But you didn't answer?”

“Was just too tired,” she shrugged. “They wouldn't let me sleep, remember?”

“Did – were you awake when we were screaming for you?” By the look on his daughter's face, he could tell she was clueless.

“What?”

“You'd been silent for hours, and you weren't making a sound; everyone was calling you, but you didn't answer,” he told her, heart racing at the memory. “I was screaming my head off, and you didn't answer.”

“Oh. Well, I don't remember that at all, so I was probably sleeping.”

“Probably?”

“Well, I remember everything else.”

* * *

Barely a week later, Dr Anderson arrived at Louise's room for her physical therapy session.

“Morning, Louise,” he smiled. “How you doing today?”

“Oh, fine,” she said sarcastically. She was already sitting up, with her slippers and shoe fillers on.

“Great,” her sarcasm wasn't lost on him, but he decided to ignore it. “Well, if you're ready, we can start.”

“I'm as ready as I'll ever be.”

“Great,” he repeated. “So, today, I thought it would be good if we took a walk around the hospital.”

“What?”

“Not the entire hospital,” he clarified, “just this floor. It'll be a way for you to practise walking for longer periods.”

“Okay,” Louise readily agreed, desperate to go somewhere that wasn't her room or the gym.

When she had stood, she put on her dressing-gown, refusing help even though she wobbled a bit, and she hobbled over to the door, Linda and the doctor flanking her.

It was easier than she thought; the crutches helped a lot, and it was actually quite nice being able to walk more than five feet, before having to turn around. It was good to see that she wasn't the only one in pyjamas and a dressing-gown, so at least she didn't stick out like a sore thumb.

She toured the HDU; she couldn't go into any of the rooms, but she got to walk down the hallway. “This is so fun(!)” she muttered under her breath, as they left the HDU, and Louise paused for a moment to catch her breath.

“Alright, where shall we go next?” asked Linda.

“I don't know; anywhere,” Louise replied.

“How about.. the cafe and gift shop?” she suggested, and Louise nodded.

“Fine.”

She had barely made it ten feet into the cafe when a middle-aged lady approached her. She was obviously another patient, as she was wearing a hospital gown, and she was pulling a stand with an IV drip alongside her. Her brown hair looked as though it hadn't been brushed for several days, and she was staring at Louise with a sort of reverence.

“Louise Belcher!” she said, looking down at Louise with awe.

“What?”

“You're the little girl who was in the well!” Louise blinked.

“Yeah...?”

“Aw, it's so good to see you! You're looking so well,” the lady moved forward to hug, and Louise shuffled back awkwardly.

“Uh, Louise is still feeling a little.. sore right now, so I'll take your hug!” Linda hurriedly stepped in and hugged the woman tightly.

“I watched every day,” she told Linda, while Louise could only stare, not quite sure of what she was seeing. “It's amazing to see her,” the lady said, and Linda stepped back.

“Alright, thank you; we've gotta go now.”

“Bye, Louise!” the woman called, and Louise looked over her shoulder, more than confused.

“What the hell just happened?!” she asked as soon as they were in the hallway.

“We told you you were famous,” said Linda.

“Well, yeah, I know, but what was that?”

“Lots of people were watching, and they worried about you.”

“Why? I mean, why did they care?” She kind of got it; she was Louise Belcher, but why all the hysterics?

“I – I don't really know,” said Linda. “I guess it was because it was someone who was stuck, and they wanted to know if you would get out. People would have been worried no matter who was stuck down there.”

“More so because it was me, right?” Louise couldn't help but notice that a lot of people were looking at her. She could tell by their faces that they recognised her, and she wasn't too sure if she liked it.

“Yes, that's right,” said Linda, smiling a little bit.

“How long will I be famous for?”

“I don't know; maybe a few weeks, months.”

“Or years?” Louise did not look impressed; she didn't want to be famous for this.

“Maybe, sweetie,” said Linda honestly. “Do you want to go to the gift shop now?”

“No, I wanna go back to my room,” Louise's face was dark, and she had already begun to walk back.

“Are you sure, honey? It'll be good for you.”

“Don't tell me what's good for me!” Louise snapped, not even looking over her shoulder.

“Louise,” said Dr Anderson, “walking around is just what you need. It'll help you build up strength, which means you'll be able to go home sooner.” Louise stopped, although she did not turn around. “You're doing so well,” he continued.

“Come on, Louise,” called Linda. “We'll just walk down to the gift shop, and then we can go back, alright?”

“I don't want to,” Louise repeated.

“Well, will you come there with me, anyway? I wanna take a look at the toys.”

“Toys?” Now Louise was facing her. “Will you get me one?”

“Sure thing, sweetie.” Linda didn't see it as bribery. It was just a way to motivate Louise.

Louise had cheered up a little bit by the time they had reached the gift shop, but she had to stop just outside the entrance for another little break.

Inside, it was quite possibly the tackiest thing she had ever seen. Bouquets of cheap flowers, bunches of heart-shaped balloons; large, oversized cards, and rails and rails of baby clothes. Perhaps the only decent things were the piles of toys.

She bypassed all of the junk, and headed straight to the back, where the shelves of plush toys waited for her. Most of them were generic teddy bears, some with little fabric hearts sewn onto their paws, and Louise pulled a face. Gross. Plush cats, but she wasn't really a cat person. Plush dogs; they only served to remind her of how she couldn't have a real one. She scanned the shelves, sighing disappointedly when she realised there were no sharks. “See anything you like, baby?” asked Linda, stepping up beside her.

“It's a tie between the tiger and the dragon,” Louise's gaze flitted from one to the other.

“Well, the tiger is very cute,” she agreed, “and I like the dragon's yellow eyes, and red skin.”

“Scales, Mom,” Louise corrected. “It'd better be the dragon, then. I already have one, so I need two.” Linda handed it to her, and they made their way to the cash register.

“Hello,” the cashier, a man in his mid-to-late 20's, smiled at them.

“Hi!” Linda beamed, and Louise wordlessly swung the toy up on the counter.

“You're the little girl who fell in the well, aren't you?” he said as he scanned the toy.

“Yes,” said Louise through gritted teeth, sorely tempted to just walk out.

“I thought I recognised you. It's great to see you up and about.”

“Aw, thank you,” said Linda, and the cashier smiled once again.

“Hey, Louise,” he leaned forward, and Louise forced herself to look up at him. “As you were so brave, see these toys behind me?” As she couldn't stand on tiptoe, Louise had to step back to see a row of toys behind him.

“Yeah.”

“Well, you can pick any one you want to have, for free,” he told her, and Linda gasped.

“Oh, no! That's very kind, but you don't have to do that,” she insisted.

“Oh, it's no trouble, ma'am; these are for specifically giving away to special kids,” he said.

“Well, if you're sure..” she turned to Louise. “Which one do you want?”

Louise studied the toys; there were several teddy bears, some with bandaged paws, some with small bunches of flowers. There was a frog with a thermometer and a hot water bag on its' head; a singing plush flower; a smiling giraffe...

“That one,” she said, pointing to a stuffed monkey with Velcro paws, wearing a T-shirt that said “Hang in there!”

“Mango the Monkey, good choice,” said the cashier, plucking it off the shelf, and handing it to her.

“Mango? I'm calling it Sheila,” Louise took it, along with her dragon, who she had named Ikimono.

“Good name,” he said, opening the cash register. “Your change, ma'am. Have a lovely day, both of you.”

“We will; you too,” said Linda, before looking down at her daughter. Louise caught her eye, and Linda gave her a significant look.

“Thank you,” said Louise, as Linda took the toys, so that Louise could focus on her crutches.

By the time she arrived back at her room, she was very tired. She was so tired, that she did not protest to Linda helping her get into bed.

“That was great today, Louise,” said Anderson, as Louise placed her new toys at the end of her bed. “You did really good. We'll do that twice a week, how does that sound?”

“Whatever,” Louise shrugged, reaching under her blankets and taking her slippers and fillers off.

“Doing things like that will help her a lot when she goes back to school,” said Anderson to Linda, as Louise settled back into her bed.

“I thought you said she'd be using a wheelchair?”

“She will, but anything that works to build her strength up will be very helpful. It will make the transition from chair to crutches easier.”

“Oh, okay. I get it.”

“Great. Well, once again, good job, Louise, and I'll see you on Friday.”

“See you,” Louise nodded and picked up the remote.

She managed twenty minutes of cartoons before falling asleep.

* * *

Two weeks later, it was Easter, and Louise was still in hospital. For the first time in her life, she actually wished she was taking part in her parents' crazy, competitive egg hunt. Her fun Easter activity was probably physical therapy. Yay.

At the beginning of the week, Louise had had skin grafts applied on her back, and was still healing from them. She didn't remember her first round of grafts, or their removals, due to sleeping, but these ones felt really weird and uncomfortable, and she didn't like them. As per usual, there was nothing she could do about it.

Louise brooded and sulked as she ate her breakfast; she hated feeling so helpless, like she wasn't able to do anything. She couldn't go home soon enough.

“Louise?” Mandy poked her head around the door. “If you're finished, there's someone out here who wants to see you.”

“Who is it?” she asked, pushing her cereal aside.

“Just someone,” was all Mandy said, coming into the room, followed by Bob, Linda, Gene, and Tina.

“Fine,” she muttered, shuffling over to the edge of the bed, and swinging her legs down. She put her shoe fillers and slippers on, and took a deep breath. Placing her arms in her crutches, she pulled herself up into a standing position. Although she had gotten quite adept at walking on her crutches, she still had trouble sitting and standing. It took her a while.

Hobbling out into the hallway, she looked around for her visitor, and her jaw dropped.

There, standing in the hallway, was the Easter Bunny.

Her family were beaming, and the Easter Bunny waved at her. She grinned widely. He was holding a basket in his hand, stuffed with chocolates and candies, and Louise approached as he held it out. She couldn't help but smile widely; not only did she have candy, but she didn't have to spend the day hunting for eggs. It was shaping up to be a pretty good Easter.

“Alright, smile, Louise!” called Linda, holding up the camera. Louise obliged, standing next to the Easter Bunny, and then her siblings squeezed in for another photo.

“How did he know where to find me?” asked Louise, as the Bunny hopped away down the hall.

“Oh, we just gave him a call,” said Linda.

“You have the Easter Bunny's phone number?”

“Well, email,” said Bob, and Louise looked at him. Of course, she wasn't to know that the Easter Bunny came every year to cheer up the sick children.

“How did you -?”

“So, Louise, do you want to get dressed, or do you want to stay in your pyjamas?” asked Mandy.

“For what?”

“For the Easter fun day! Mandy grinned, and Louise looked confused. “It's something we do for the kids every year,” she explained. “There's arts and crafts-” Louise groaned. “There's cupcake making, there's making Easter bonnets, painting and decorating eggs.”

“Alright. Beats staying in here all day.”

“Great. Shall we leave you to get dressed?”

“Nah, I'll go as I am.” Louise hadn't yet tried to dress herself; she wasn't ready to try and fail. Linda had helped her get into her pyjamas, but that was not happening again.

When they arrived at the playroom, the activities were in full swing. The large, bright, and colourful room had been divided into sections. The table nearest to them was designated for drawing and colouring, and had sheets of paper, card; crayons, markers, and paint; connect-the-dot, colour-by-numbers, and colouring pages. Many of the younger children were at this table, accompanied by nurses and family members.

The next table, in the back left, was set aside for dyeing and painting eggs. There were eggcups galore, along with several glasses full of food colouring, and acrylic paints, along with brushes, and bowls of mini gems and stickers for decorating.

The table in the other back corner, next to one of the two big windows, was for making cookies and cupcakes. There were bowls full of chocolate chips, different coloured frosting, sprinkles, mini marshmallows, and edible glitter.

The final table was for making Easter bonnets, and was scattered with card in every colour possible, tissue paper, ribbon, lace, several little boxes full of felt, and fake feathers, and tiny little chicks, eggs, and rabbits.

All around them, children were running, and skipping about, shrieking with laughter. The speakers on the shelf on the right were playing pop music, and the television on the left was playing a CGI rabbit themed movie.

“So, what do you wanna do first, sweetie?” asked Linda, as they all stood in the doorway, and Louise looked around her.

“Uh... egg painting.” There was no way Louise was going to sit and colour. At least, not until the toddlers had all gone. The rest of her family joined her, and they all began to paint eggs. The kids especially had a lot of fun, as they usually only wrote “M” and “D” on their eggs. Now they were able to do what they pleased. Gene had a lot of fun covering his egg with seemingly every single gem in the place, and Tina painted a horse on hers.

Louise didn't have anything specific in mind when she decorated her egg; it was just random swirls and splotches.

“Aw, my little babies are so artistic!” Linda cooed, admiring their eggs. “My little Gene-casso, my Tina-vinci, and my Louise-a-angelo! Aw, we should do this every year!”

“Stop it, Mom,” said Louise.

“How'd you kids get so good at this?” asked Bob, holding up Gene's crystallised egg.

“We're naturally artists, Dad,” said Gene, “you've seen my work.”

All in all, the Belchers' ended up having a very fun Easter; they made drawings and cards, and they made cupcakes and cookies. There was no oven in the playroom, so the nurses had to take the mixing bowls down to the kitchen to be cooked, and then bring them back up again. They even got to take their treats with them.

Louise even made an Easter bonnet, along with her family. Well, more of an Easter headband. She decorated hers with drawings and stickers of rabbits and chicks, while Tina made her rabbits chase each other.

“They're in love,” she'd said.

Gene had made himself a top hat, with flowers lining the brim, and a chick and rabbit popping out of the top. He proudly wore it for the rest of the day.

They even took part in the Easter egg hunt, around the paediatric unit. At that point in time, Louise was very good on her crutches; she was able to keep pace with her family, and she wasn't averse to giving people a quick whack with them. She still wasn't great at bending down, though, so they quickly developed a system; if Louise spotted an egg, she would point it out, and someone would pick it up for her. It was a good system, and Louise soon had a good number of eggs in her basket, which she insisted on carrying, even though it was difficult with her crutches.

By late afternoon, Louise was exhausted and full of chocolate and cupcakes, and so they went back to her room. Now that Louise was up and walking, she rarely wanted to get back into her bed, so she would usually sit in a chair.

“That was fun,” she admitted. It really had been fun. She didn't socialise with anyone, which was perfectly normal, but quite a few people had recognised her and asked if she was the little girl who was stuck in the well. Unfortunately, lying wasn't an option, so she had to say yes. It kind of annoyed her, and she was determined to not let that be her legacy. Most people had left her alone, which she was glad of.

“It was, wasn't it?” Linda agreed, arranging all of Louise's art on the bedside table. “Do you want me to take these home, sweetie, or do you want to leave them here?”

“Do whatever you want.” Louise rarely saved her drawings. She kept a few of the most important ones, like her invention of a new Burobu. She hadn't named it yet, but it was a cross between a slug, a tank, and a shark.

“I'm gonna keep 'em. I keep all my babies' artwork.” It was true; Linda had two big storage boxes, filled with perhaps every single drawing her children had ever made for her and Bob. She couldn't bear to throw them away.

“It's your life,” Louise shrugged.

* * *

Not even a week, later, Louise was ecstatic. She had been cleared to go home, and her family were on their way to pick her up. It was Friday, April 26th; she had been hospitalised for almost two months, and she couldn't be happier to be leaving.

She was looking out the window, waiting for her parents to arrive. All of her cards, toys, and drawings had been packed up and taken away the day before, and she had managed to wriggle into her usual green dress. She was only wearing one shoe due to her cast, and the shoe filler still felt weird, but she was sure she would get used to it.

She had heard her mother and physical therapist talking about prosthetics, and, if she were honest, she would rather have those than the shoe fillers. At least, if she had prosthetics, her feet would look normal again.

She didn't have much time to brood, for her family had arrived.

“ _Alright! My baby's comin' home! My little baby's comin' home to her family!”_ Linda sang, throwing her head back, and raising her arms.

“Louise, you all ready to go?” asked Bob.

“I've been ready for months,” she said, hobbling over toward them on her crutches. “Come on, let's get going!”

There was no fuss made, as they left. Mandy gave her a hug (Louise did not hug back), and said she was glad that Louise was better now.

At the front desk, Louise was signed out, and Bob and Linda would deal with the medical bills later.

They hadn't yet dared to look at Louise's fund, and they hoped it would be enough to help cover some of the costs. If not, well, they would find a way.

In many ways, they were very lucky; during the rescue, the firemen had used over 23 oxygen tanks to keep their daughter alive, with almost the same amount of heated air tanks. They hadn't been charged for them. The drilling rig had cost at least $15,000, according to what they had read, not to mention the firemens', policemens', medics' time. And all of the equipment that had been donated out of the goodness of peoples' hearts. When Bob and Linda had received the email, telling them they weren't going to be charged for the rescue operation, Bob had burst into tears. So, that was a load off their minds; now all they had to worry about were Louise's most likely sky-high hospital bill, and making sure she was comfortable at home.

Louise was surprised to see Olsen Benner and her cameraman waiting outside the hospital.

“You don't have to talk if you don't want to,” said Bob.

“Louise!” the reporter smiled, “how does it feel to be out of hospital?”

“It feels great,” Louise paused, and her family stood around her.

“Are you going to have any more operations?”

“I don't think so.”

“We need to go to the doctor next week to check her skin grafts,” said Bob.

“And how do you feel about your daughter being released?”

“We're over the moon to have her back with us,” said Linda. “I'm so proud of her.”

“And, Louise, how do you feel about all of this?”

“It feels good to be going home,” was all Louise said, before walking over to the car. She still was unable to climb, so Bob had to lift her in.

During the ride home, Louise was desperately hoping that Linda hadn't gone all _Linda_ and planned a surprise party for her. She loved attention as much as the next person (much, much more), but she didn't want to have to deal with everyone crowding around her. She hoped her father had used his brain and said 'no' to any kind of party. “How did the reporter know I was coming home today?” she asked.

“We told Teddy, Mort, and your grandfather, and they must have told other people,” said Linda.

“Oh, okay.”

To her surprise, and intense relief, the house was empty. But it was decorated. Linda had strung up banners and balloons, and the coffee table was laden down with party food; cupcakes, cookies, ice cream, and the like. The rest of the cards and gifts she had received were lying unopened on the TV cabinet. “Are those all for me?”

“Yep,” smiled Linda, as Louise got situated on the sofa, and picked up a cookie. “We wanted to bring them to you in hospital, but we weren't allowed.”

“Why?”

“Because of contamination.” Louise threw her a disbelieving look, and returned her attention to the television.

“Here you go,” said Tina, handing her the remote.

“You have officially been bestowed the remote control as our gift to you, sister,” Gene bowed down. Louise grinned and flipped to one of her favourite channels as a parcel was handed to her.

It felt great to be home, although she would never say it aloud, and she was glad that everything was now back to normal. Everything was as it should be; she was surrounded by her family, she was the lucky recipient of several gifts (and it wasn't even her birthday!), and everyone was focused on her.

Some of the presents people had sent to her included toys, clothes, colouring sets, books, and several make-it-yourself kits; there was make your own slime, make your own chocolate coins; DIY dream-catchers, a candle making kit, and make your soap and bath bombs. Louise resolved to give those to Linda and Gene; she wasn't really one for sharing, but she couldn't think of anything more boring than making soap and bath bombs. What was she, a 1950's housewife?

She grinned as she read through the note Nat had included in her gift (a more high-end lock-picking kit.

“What does it say?” asked Linda.

“Oh, just saying that she wants to come see us,” said Louise casually, tucking the note away in her pocket. She was definitely going to take Nat up on her offer.

She figured she could do a lot with the rest of what she had; she enjoyed making things as much as the next person.

What really surprised her was how much she enjoyed opening the cards; not for the actual cards; but many of them contained money, and lots of them had gift vouchers. Louise got gift certificates to fancy restaurants; she received a $50 voucher for the About a Toy store. Louise knew exactly what she was going to spend that on.

“Wow,” she said, opening yet another card.

“What?”

“It's from the Wharf Arts centre; they're giving me free tickets to any show.”

“Cool!” Linda was already examining the vouchers, and Bob grabbed the laptop. “Ooh, we can go see a musical! Or a -”

“It's either a murder mystery or nothing,” Louise cut her off. Truthfully, she wasn't a fan of the theatre, and the only reason she was even considering it was because the tickets were given to her, and not her family.

“I'm sure they'll have something there you'll like,” said Bob, before his jaw dropped. “Oh, my God, they have Cake 3!” he gasped. “They're showing Cake 3: The Winner Cakes it All! Oh, my -”

“No,” said Louise. “You couldn't pay me to go see that. I'll choose. No one else.”

* * *

A few hours later, Bob and Linda went to Wagstaff school to speak to Louise's teachers, leaving Tina in charge. It was a Wednesday, and Louise would be returning to school the following Monday.

Once there, they met up with Dr Anderson, and made their way to Principal Spoors' office.

All of the teachers were there, and so was Mr Frond.

“Louise is coming back next week,” Bob was saying, “and she'll be in a wheelchair.”

“Not a problem,” said Frond, “we managed to fundraise enough for the ramp. How long will she be in the wheelchair?”

“Um, I think, about a week?” Linda wasn't too sure.

“She'll be doing half-days for two weeks,” Dr Anderson began professionally, “she'll do one week in the chair, and if she feels up to it, the following week on crutches. If the first week is too much for her, then she'll spend the second week in her wheelchair, as well. If that's the case, then there'll be one more week of half-days.”

“What time will she be leaving?” asked Mr Frond.

“She'll go home straight after lunch, and one of her parents will be there to pick her up.”

“Okay, and will she need any assistance in getting around the school?” asked Spoors.

“No, she's got good control over her chair, and is good on crutches. If we can arrange to have her classes on the ground floor for the time being, though, as she won't be able to go upstairs in the wheelchair.”

“We can do that. Anything else?”

“Well, uh, Louise doesn't want anyone to know about this, but you kinda need to,” said Bob. “Her toes were amputated. So, she can't do P.E for a while yet, and, uh, she doesn't want anyone to mention it. At all. And she insists that you don't tell any of the students about it; she'll decide when she wants them to know.”

* * *

It didn't take long for Louise to settle back into her old life. Very little had changed; there were now handrails that Teddy had installed in the bathroom, next to the bath, and the toilet, and now a wheelchair was in the living room. She'd been kept busy finding a place for all of her new toys and games; a lot of rearranging was involved with that, and now everything had a home.

It felt great to be back in her room, in her own bed, with her own pillows and blankets.

She was already back at work in the restaurant. She _definitely_ didn't miss it; the booths, the cash register, the smell of beef and grease in the air. No, she didn't miss it at all.

Bob had her doing side work. She would sit on a stool behind the counter and marry condiments, refill napkins, polish silverware, and if anyone wanted a refill, they would come up to her, and she would top them up. She soon got back into the swing of things; soon, it began to feel like she had never left.

The only thing that weirded her out was the fact that the restaurant was actually busy. It was so weird to see person after person coming in, and actually staying. Without being vain, she knew it was because of her; everyone was just constantly talking to her.

Louise was surprised at how difficult she was finding it. She loved attention, but everyone crowding around her, talking to her, she found it hard to concentrate on them. She couldn't seem to decipher what they were saying, and their voices seemed to blend together.

* * *

One thing that had changed was that now every other Friday, after Bob closed the restaurant, they did family things. Be it watching a movie, or taking a picnic in the park, or anything that involved them spending quality time together. It was pretty much the same as they used to do, but now it had a different meaning to it. They were a family, a complete family, and they wanted to celebrate that any way they knew how.

“Right, are we ready?” said Linda one evening, after they had closed.

“Ready for what?” asked Tina, as they bypassed the front door, and continued walking down the street.

“We're going to the park,” she grinned, doing a little dance step as she walked to the car.

“Why?” asked Gene.

“We just feel like it,” said Bob, reaching into his pocket for his keys.

“But why a boring park?” Louise awkwardly climbed into the back seat, rebuffing any attempts from her siblings to help her.

“It's a nice place,” said Linda, looking through the rear-view mirror, as her children put their seat belts on. “There's a playground, and I packed a picnic.”

“It's a wonderful day for a picnic in the park,” said Gene, as Bob began to drive.

They soon came upon alocal park; not Wharf Park, a small one, kind of out of the way, and a little bit isolated. They had quickly devoured the picnic, and now the kids were exploring the little childrens' park, while their parents watched.

“This is nice,” Linda sighed, as she stretched out on the bench next to her husband. “We should do this more often.”

“It is nice,” Bob admitted, looking around at the little park.

Tina was on the swings, not going very high, despite pumping her legs, while Gene was whooping as he went down the slide.

Louise's crutches had been abandoned, and she was crawling through one of the play tunnels. The tunnel seemed to be getting smaller and tighter the further she crawled, and soon she was physically stuck. Her shoulders were caught, and she could neither go forward or backwards. Her hands were splayed beneath her chest, and even though her legs had plenty of room she couldn't seem to move them. Taking a few deep breaths, she tried to wiggle back, but she couldn't move.

“Bobby, I don't see Louise,” said Linda, and Bob stood, looking through the park.

“That's weird.” His heart was racing; the last time she was in a park, she had almost died. “Louise!” he called, stepping forward, and Linda joined him. “Louise!”

“Gene, Tina, have you seen Louise?” said Linda, and they shook their heads. “Come on, help look for her.”

 _'Deep breaths,'_ Louise told herself, trying to remain calm, even though the tunnel was getting smaller. _'Deep breaths; just breathe.'_ She sighed in relief as Tina's head popped up at the end of the tunnel.

“Tina!” she gasped.

“Everyone's looking for you.”

“I know; I'm stuck.”

“Give me your hand, and I'll pull you out.” Tina stretched out her hand, but Louise did not move.

“Didn't you hear me, Tina? I'm stuck! I can't move!”

“But.. the tunnel...” Tina looked in confusion at the tunnel; Gene and Bob could have fit in there, easy.

“Tina!” Louise snapped. “Focus, here! I am _not_ spending five days stuck in here, so you better get me out!”

“Right. Right, right,” Tina muttered, before realising what she had to do. She got up and went around to the other end of the tunnel. There, she could see her sister's legs, and she crawled into the tunnel. She gently grabbed the ankle that hadn't been broken, and began to pull.

When Louise was out, she instantly stood up, gasping. “Louise, are you okay?”

“I'm _fine,_ ” she seethed, as Bob and Linda came running up to them.

“Oh, Louise!” Linda enfolded her in a bone-crushing hug, “Louise, where were you?”

“Relax, Mom,” Louise forced herself out of the iron grip. “I was just exploring.”

“Are you sure? We couldn't see you.”

“Yes, I'm _sure.”_

“Alright,” said Linda. “Well, if you're sure you're okay, we'll go back home. We've got a busy day tomorrow, and then on Monday, you're going back to school.”

* * *

That Sunday found Louise and her siblings back in Wharf Park. It was a rare afternoon off for them, but Louise was there on business.

Holding the walkie-talkie up to her mouth, Louise heard grunts emitting through it.

“This is the Godfather, are you in position?” she asked from her hiding place in a large bush.

“ _Hup – whoa, ugh, almost there. Ready and in position, boss,”_ came Nat's voice through the speaker. Louise peeked through the bush, at the tree across from her, in which Nat was situated.

“Is the target in sight?”

“ _Target is in sight; should be passing by me in about 30 seconds.”_

“Okay, we got one shot; don't screw this up.” Louise put the walkie-talkie down, and resumed peering through the leaves, along with Gene and Tina. “This is gonna be great,” she whispered. “How come we didn't bring the video camera?”

“Because none of us have a pocket big enough,” said Gene.

“Oh, well; I'm gonna remember this moment for the rest of my life.”

“Look, there he is!” Louise discreetly pulled back a branch, and grabbed her radio as Logan walked casually through Wharf Park, glued to his phone, skateboard tucked under his arm.

“Get ready, Nat,” she whispered. “Three... two... one... _go!”_

Logan stopped dead still in shock as an unknown, slimy substance poured all over him.

“What the -?” raising his arms, he saw that he was covered head to foot in baked beans. “What the hell?” he yelled, looking around, but he saw no-one. “Louise!” he screamed, beans falling from his hair. “I don't know how, but you're behind this; I know you are!” Looking disgusted, he tried to wipe the beans off him, when he heard the sound of glass tinkling. Head whipping up, he again saw nothing, but he heard the same noise again. He saw shards of glass on the floor, before the most pungent smell he could ever imagine hit him in the face like a freight train. “Oh, my God!” he cried, covering his nose and mouth. “Oh, God, I can feel it inside my nose! It's seeping into my skin!” He tried to run, but slipped and fell face-first into the beans. Managing to get to his feet, he stumbled away, hands over his face.

Louise could not hold back her laughter any longer; tears were streaming down her face, as Nat dropped from the tree, and ran over to them.

“Oh, my God, that was perfect!” Louise cackled. Gene was on the ground, holding his stomach, and even Tina was laughing like mad.

“We totally “Carrie'd” him!” cried Gene.

“I think we did a good job here,” grinned Nat, as Louise wiped her face, trying to calm herself down. “What do you think, boss?”

“It was great, Sarge; couldn't have been better.”

“Wonderful; well, I'll be off. If you need me for anything else, any of you, you've got my number.”

“Bye, Nat.”

“See ya, guys!” And Nat was off, stopping only to grab the industrial-sized bucket that had housed the beans, before she was gone, like a twisted fairy godmother.

* * *

Louise scowled as she placed herself into her wheelchair. It was Monday morning, and they were about to leave for school. She was about ready to die of embarrassment, even more so when she would actually get to school and people would stare at her.

“Aw, there's my little babies!” cried Linda when the children entered the restaurant. “Louise, won't you be hot in that?” She took in Louise's blue jacket, and her black leggings, which she had managed to force over her ankle cast. She had also taken one of Linda's socks, and placed it over the end of the cast, obscuring her foot.

“I'm cold,” Louise shrugged, ignoring the sunshine that was streaming through the window.

Bob and Linda glanced at each other when their children left.

“Shall we?” Bob asked and Linda nodded. He got out the family laptop, and placed it on the counter. Connecting to the Internet, he typed in “Louise Belcher Fund,” and clicked on the link. Linda pulled an envelope out of her bag; Louise's hospital bill, and, taking a deep breath, she opened it. They had health insurance, which would cover some of the costs, but any help they got would be more than greatly appreciated.

“$125,000?!” She almost fainted. She skimmed through the contents: full-body X-ray: $1,100; CT scans of the kidneys: $2,000, emergency room visit: $3,000; transmetatarsal amputations: $20,000, and so on. “How much is there, Bobby?” Bob was staring open-mouthed at the screen.

“There's over $130,000 in here!”

“What?!” Linda moved to join him at the laptop and found that he was right. “Oh, my God!”

“This is.. incredible,” Bob covered his mouth. “I can't believe that people did this.” He looked closer; most of the donations were anonymous, but some had left their names. “Wow, the biggest one is $80,000 from a Warren. F.” He looked up at his wife, “you don't think that's Warren Fitzgerald, do you?”

“You know, I think it might be. Why don't you give him a call and find out?” Bob did just that, and pulled out his phone.

“Hey, Warren, it's Bob. I was wondering, did you...?” He wasn't quite sure how to phrase it.

“ _Did I what?”_

“Did you donate money to Louise? I'm not saying you have to, if you didn't; it's just there's a name here, the same as yours -”

“ _Yeah, I did; I'm just messin' with ya, Bob. I knew what you were talking about. I hope it helps.”_

“It does. It really does. Thank you so much.”

“ _Hey, no problem. Glad she's home now. If there's anything else I can do, just let me know.”_

“Oh, no; you've done too much already. Thanks again.”

“ _Well, alright. Might come and visit in a few weeks.”_

“That would be great. See you.”

“I can't believe he did that,” said Linda when Bob had hung up. “He's a great guy.”

“You know what that means? We can use that extra money for the trip to Japan.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“What do you mean, maybe?”

“Well, Louise might need more surgery, or something; you never know. I think we should hold on to it, just in case.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

* * *

When they arrived at school, Louise wheeling herself, the three of them stopped and stared. There was a crowd of students and teachers hanging around outside. Many of them were staring up at the front steps, and when the Belchers' got closer, they saw why. Apparently, when the school had decided to set up a ramp, they hadn't thought it through. Wagstaff school had twelve steps leading up to it, and now a wooden ramp was on the left-hand side.

It wasn't until the ramp had been assembled that they saw the problem.

“Well, come on then,” said Louise. “Let's get this over with.”

Tina and Gene each took a handle, and began to push her up the ramp. Well, they tried. Due to it being quite steep, they were unable to push the chair. Even Tina's puberty strength wasn't able to help them.

Louise stared determinedly ahead, knowing she was being watched. “If you're taking pictures, I'm gonna charge you!” she yelled. “Five bucks each!”

All of a sudden, she was zooming up the ramp, and was being quickly wheeled down the corridor. “Finally -” she was greeted with the grinning face of Millie, and she screamed. “Millie!”

“Hi, Louise!” said the girl breathlessly. “I'm so glad you're out of the hospital now, and that you're all better. Can I sign your cast? I'll draw a picture of you and me on it. Hey, maybe I should break _my_ foot, and we can get matching casts!”

“No, you cannot sign my cast,” said Louise sharply, the sound of footsteps telling her that her siblings had arrived. “And I didn't break my foot; I broke my ankle.”

“I know that, silly billy!” Millie cackled, “I was just saying we should totally get matching casts; that would be so cool!”

“No, it wouldn't,” said Louise. Fortunately for them both, the bell rang at that moment, and the students hurried off their classes.

“I'll sit with you at lunch, Louise!” came Millie's voice from somewhere in the crowd.

“Over my dead body!” Louise yelled.

Before classes officially started, she was accosted by Mr Frond, who led her to his office.

“So, welcome back, Louise,” he smiled at her, while she stared at him, looking deeply irritated.

“What do you want?”

“I just want you to know, that if you ever need to talk, or if things get too much for you, you can always come here; my office is always open.”

“I can think of a million better things to do than willingly come here.” Frond sighed inwardly, before trying again.

“Well, my offer still stands. Oh, by the way, Nurse Liz says that if you get too tired, you can go to her office and lie down.”

“Oh, my God!” Louise facepalmed. “It will be a cold day in hell before I do any of that. Now, unlike you, I have stuff to do,” she threw him a cold look before wheeling herself out of the room.

It wasn't that bad being back at school, Louise thought; some of the classrooms had been changed, and now all of her lessons were on the ground floor. She got more than a few stares, but mostly people left her alone; her reputation as just a little bit crazy was well-known.

The first person who actually approached her was Regular-sized Rudy.

“Hey, Louise.”

“'Sup?” was all she said as they, along with Tina and Gene, made their way into the cafeteria. She didn't really feel like holding a conversation at that moment.

“How you feeling?” he asked awkwardly, not really sure what to say.

“Oh, I'm top of the world,” she said sarcastically.

“Oh, okay. Well, I'm glad you're out of the hospital now.”

“Thanks,” Louise muttered, frowning slightly. Didn't anyone have anything better to say to her?

“So, can I sign your cast?” he asked.

“My cast?” Louise looked down at it. “Uh, sure, go ahead.” Smiling, Rudy pulled a pen from his backpack and examined the cast, which was littered with signatures.

“Whoa, that's a lot of names. Who are all these?”

“Just some of the people who got me out.”

“Oh. I thought you didn't want visitors.” Louise paused slightly.

“I didn't; my parents invited them,” she said, and Rudy nodded.

“Where should I sign?” Louise looked back down at her cast, suddenly remembering how he'd saved a spot on his own cast for her.

“Oh, yeah, I saved you a spot; right here,” she said quickly, pointing to a small gap on the side of her ankle.

“Okay, cool.” Louise held her breath as Rudy bent down and began to write. She hoped with all of her might that he wouldn't notice that her toes didn't peep out from the edge, like they should have. If she still had them. Thankfully, if he did notice, he said nothing, and they headed to the cafeteria.

After lunch, Tina and Gene took Louise to reception to wait for either Bob or Linda. Jimmy Jr., Zeke, Andy, Ollie, and Millie had joined them at their table for lunch, but Louise barely interacted with them. She did rather enjoy sitting at the end of the table; it made her feel like she was the boss.

* * *

It was Bob who came to pick her up. He lifted her into the car, and they drove past the restaurant, and went straight on to the physiotherapy centre, where her physical therapy sessions would take place.

Bob had to give her credit; he thought, watching his daughter work on bending her legs, twisting her free ankle, and walking. She was taking it all in stride, working hard, and he was so proud of her. He blew his nose, blinking back tears.

“Hi, sweetie!” called Linda, when they arrived home, Louise back in her wheelchair, and Bob pushing her. “How was physical therapy?”

“It was fine,” said Louise, moving herself out of her chair and into the only empty booth. “Same old, same old.”

“She did really good, Lin,” Bob's voice wobbled. “Like, really good. She did everything she was told, and didn't complain once.”

“She's amazing, isn't she?” said Linda quietly, and Bob nodded, more tears welling in his eyes.

The restaurant was busy, but not so busy that Linda couldn't handle it alone, which was the best kind of busy. Now, with Bob back on the grill, Linda went out front to work behind the counter. Teddy was there, along with two other men, and Linda chatted happily to them, as she refilled their drinks. “Bobby?” she looked through the hatch, and saw Bob bent over the grill. “Bobby.”

“What?”

“Look.” Linda jerked her head towards the booths, and Bob carefully leaned over, looking.

Louise was asleep in the booth, curled up with her head resting against the wall.

“I'll take her upstairs,” Bob, removing his apron and exiting the kitchen. He picked Louise up, took her upstairs, and tucked her into bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done! So, what did you think?  
> Please let me know, I love hearing your thoughts.  
> 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was going to be part of the last one, but it was way too long, so I split it into two.  
> Hope you enjoy reading!

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 12

Louise soon understood why Dr. Anderson only wanted her to do half-days at school; four hours of school, plus an hour of physical therapy, and she was absolutely exhausted. Bob and Linda had become accustomed to taking her to her room when she arrived home because she would inevitably fall asleep.

Things had gone back to normal, and only very little had changed; Louise would now spend a while in the bathroom every morning, cleaning her stumps. She had learned her lesson, although she still hated looking at them so much.

She now had her night light on every night, whereas before she didn't really need it all the time.

Sometimes, she would forget that she had had amputations, and fall in the middle of the night when she got up for the bathroom, and she still slept every afternoon after physical therapy. She'd gotten used to crawling to the bathroom.

It was easy to forget that she had no toes, and sometimes she would go to wriggle or stretch them, only for nothing to happen. However, Louise swore that she could sometimes feel them; occasionally, she would get an itch, and she would bend down, only to scratch thin air. It was weird.

She needed her seat ring whenever she sat down. Mealtimes and school were easy, as she just stayed in her wheelchair, but she needed to remember to put it on the sofa, before she transferred.

Bob and Linda couldn't believe how unaffected by it all Louise appeared to be. She seemed unconcerned with the customers talking to her, and being back at school in her wheelchair. But they knew that it was bothering her more than she let on.

“Come on, kids, time to get up!” Linda called as she prepared breakfast, and Bob sat at the table reading the newspaper.

“Did you.. hear anything last night?” Bob asked delicately, as Linda cracked eggs.

“Hear what? I didn't hear nothing.”

“I think Louise has been having bad dreams.” Bob had gotten up the night before to use the bathroom, and on his way back, he had checked on the kids. Tina was thrashing, Gene was farting, but Louise was whimpering. He'd gone over to her, but she had stopped soon after, so he went back to bed.

“Okay, shall we talk to her?”

“I don't think it'll do much good,” said Bob honestly. Louise had been moody and tetchy ever since she had arrived home from hospital. It was just like when she had her accident (although 'accident' was a nice way of putting it), and Louise had been bad-tempered after that hospital stay, too. But, she was only four, and was dealing with a lot, so the parents had decided to let it go.

“Well, what about therapy?”

“You know she won't talk about it.”

“Yeah, you're right,” Linda shrugged, and went to wake her children up.

Tina was already up, writing her erotic friend fiction, but Gene was fast asleep. “Up you get, my little Genie,” she cooed, opening the curtains, and pulling his blanket down.

“Mother, I'll have you know that I was in the middle of a very interesting dream about a house made of cheese! Now I'm hungry for cheese,” Gene stretched and made his way into the kitchen.

Louise was just getting up when Linda checked on her, and she saw that her daughter was wearing socks, one of them stretched over her ankle cast. Linda wasn't sure whether Louise was supposed to be wearing them, but as the doctor hadn't said anything about it, she kept quiet. That was another thing that had changed; Louise never went barefoot any more, not even to bed.

“Time to get up, Louise.”

“Don't want to; I have a headache,” came Louise's muffled voice, her face buried in her pillow.

“Another one?” Linda crossed over to the bed, kneeling down.

“Yep.”

“You've had a headache or stomach ache every day this week. Are you feeling okay, sweetie?”

“Just grand(!)”

“I'll get you some medicine; it'll be ready when you come out.”

“Fine,” Linda moved away as Louise sat up, and stood in the doorway, watching.

“Are you just gonna stand there all day, and block the light, or are you gonna move so I can get out?” said Louise, the dark circles under her eyes even more pronounced in the beam of light that entered the room.

“Louise -” Linda had to remind herself not to get angry; she almost died, after all. “Breakfast is ready,” was all she said, leaving the doorway.

* * *

Louise was getting used to the wheelchair. There were plenty of older kids and adults who were only too happy to help her up the ramp every day, and most people had the sense to stay out of her way.

That was the one thing Louise liked about her wheelchair; people parted like the Red Sea when she rolled down the corridors, and those who didn't got a “accidental” bash to the ankle. Best of all, nobody could do anything or say anything, because then they would be the ones who were being inconsiderate of a poor, little disabled (temporarily) child. Louise had to admit, the wheelchair had its perks.

“Beep beep! Out of the way!” Louise ordered, quickly wheeling herself down the main corridor, grinning as students and adults alike moved aside to let her through. She could get used to that. It was just basic manners, really, to move out of the way of the future ruler of the world. They would want to get into her good books, so that she wouldn't smite them, or whatever it was that world leaders did to traitors. Heads on a pike? Or was that too much?

Usually, Gene and Tina would be hurrying along behind her, but Louise would refuse to let them steer her. It was her chair; she would do the steering, thank you very much. Today, if they were behind her, she couldn't hear them. “Move!” she yelled, deliberately speeding up, and a third-grader shrieked and dived to the side, lest she be mown down.

It was funny how something she needed because she couldn't walk gave her so much power.

Louise kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, not making eye contact with anyone. Of course, with great power came great responsibility, or whatever they said. She refused to meet anyone's gaze due to the pitying looks they showered her with, just like she had known they would.

People who had never even spoken to her, would approach her and ask if she needed help. Her, Louise Belcher! It was insulting, and Louise would not hesitate to run over a foot or knock into them as she wheeled herself past.

Perhaps even worse – no, _definitely_ even worse – were the well-meaning people who would randomly grab the handlebars, and start pushing her. That meant that Louise would instantly apply the brakes.

“Don't touch the chair!” she'd snapped more than once. “It's mine; you don't touch it!”

“I was only trying to help,” said one of the snotty eighth-graders she didn't care to know the name of.

“Well, don't! I can steer it myself!” Thankfully, most people had got the message and were finally leaving her alone.

Louise huffed and growled as, yet again, the wheels of the chair were jammed in the door frame. “Damn it,” she muttered, backing up, and trying again, only for the same thing to happen. She growled once more; this seemed to happen at least once a day. She could hear talking and chattering in the corridor behind her, but no one seemed to realise she was stuck. Or, if they did, were reluctant to come and help her. Louise hesitated, wondering if she should swallow her pride, before shaking her head, and trying once more. The wheels still wouldn't go through, and she felt _this_ close to reaching out and snapping the door frame off.

“Hol' on a sec there, girl.” Louise seethed silently as she heard a familiar drawl, and felt a pair of hands on her wheelchair. In an instant, she was through the door. Annoyed, she continued wheeling herself, determined to get as far away as possible. “You're welcome,” Zeke called after her, his tone light and casual.

Louise twisted around, trying to mask the pain she felt in her back, and rolled up to Zeke.

“ _Thank. You,”_ she hissed.

“Oh, come on now; ain't no need fer that.” He raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, really?” Louise glared up at him.

“Yeah, Li'l B, I was -”

“Don't call me that!” she snapped, her hands clenching into fists.

“Alright, then, Louise; I was only tryna help. A little manners go a long way, ya know.” This was the wrong thing to say to an already angry girl with a bruised ego. Zeke knew as soon as the words had left his mouth that he had made a mistake. But, his grandma had always been big on manners, and it had rubbed off onto him. “Ah, now, I didn't mean that -” he began, but Louise didn't let him finish.

“Don't patronise me,” she pointed a finger in his face. “I don't need help,” she informed him, before turning around, and wheeling herself away.

* * *

She was now into her second week at school, but was still in her wheelchair, because she was just too exhausted.

As per usual, they had a system; either Gene or Tina would 'thoughtfully' roll the wheelchair down the stairs, and Louise would then bum-shuffle down after it, and then stand and lift herself in. When they got home, one of her siblings would give her a piggy-back ride (if Louise didn't feel like bum-shuffling back up), and someone would bring the wheelchair up. They hadn't yet progressed to stair-climbing in physical therapy, and Louise didn't feel like trying and falling.

Once they were finished with breakfast, Bob and Linda opened the restaurant, and the kids' headed off to school.

It was another busy morning; Linda hummed and sang as she took orders, ran food, and bussed tables. Bob was behind the grill, cooking the new burger of the day, the “Sweet Chard O' Mine Burger,”, and he would come out to help bus and clean tables whenever there was a gap.

“How's your little girl doing?” asked a woman with a toddler Linda did not know.

“She's good, doing really well,” Linda beamed.

“Oh, that's good; I was watching every day. I work in an office, and everyone stopped what they were doing to watch when they got her out.”

“Really? That's so sweet.” The phone rang in the background, but before she could move, Bob answered it.

“Yeah! We were all so relieved. When I got home, my mom told me she actually cried.”

“Wow.” Linda didn't think she would ever not be amazed by the reaction of all these strangers. Now that she'd had time to process it, she found it very sweet.

“Lin, can you hold the fort for a few minutes?” Linda turned around to see Bob pulling off his apron, and heading to the door. She looked at the clock, confused; it was barely nine.

“What? What happened?”

“That was the school; they said Louise fell out of her wheelchair.”

“What?! Is she okay?! How did that happen?”

“I don't know; they didn't tell me,” Bob was already out of the door.

When he arrived at the school, Louise, Gene and Tina were outside the school, as was Mr Frond, and Nurse Liz. “What happened?!” he asked, as soon as he was within earshot. Louise was sat in her wheelchair, red in the face, hands balled into fists.

“Louise fell out of her chair,” said Tina needlessly.

“Yes, Tina, I know. How did it happen?”

“It slipped off the curb!” Louise snapped, her teeth clenched, clearly in pain.

She had been waiting to cross the road with her brother and sister, when the front wheels had rolled forward, off the curb. Louise, without thinking, had slammed her feet on the ground, and somehow, she had toppled out of her chair.

“ _Louise! Are you okay?!” Gene cried._

“ _Just get me up!” Her wheelchair was on its side, and she was lying on her stomach in the road. Louise propped herself up onto her elbows. “Get me up!”_

_Gene was able to move her slightly towards the seat of her chair, but he couldn't lift her, and it, up. Even when Tina joined in, the two of them weren't able to lift her. Louise kept her eyes on the ground, knowing that people were watching._

“ _Whoa, easy, girl; I gotcha,” came a Southern drawl, and the next thing Louise knew, a strong pair of hands had put her back in her chair, and picked it up._

“ _Thanks, Zeke,” said Tina._

“ _Yeah, thanks,” added Gene, while Louise focused on trying to make herself comfortable._

“ _Ain't no problem. You okay, Louise?” Zeke looked at her, but Louise did not look at him._

“ _Fine, just go away!” she said, trying to stop herself from screaming in pain._

_Gene and Tina had wheeled her to school, in order to phone their parents, when Nurse Liz came out._

“Are you okay?” Bob asked, kneeling down beside her.

“My feet – _really_ – hurt,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“Okay,” Bob nodded, and looked at Frond, “she should probably be back tomorrow, but we'll let you know. See you later, Gene, Tina.”

“Bye, Dad,” said Tina as their father loaded Louise into the car.

Linda was waiting for them when they arrived, and when the car pulled up, she ran outside to greet them.

“Oh, Louise, my baby, are you okay?!” She danced around anxiously, as Bob lifted Louise out of the car. “Are you okay?” she repeated, but Louise didn't answer. “Bobby?”

“I'll tell you in a minute; just let me put her upstairs,” said Bob, taking Louise into the apartment.

He put Louise in her bed, tucking her in, before rifling through the medicine cabinets for some pain relief. He came back to her, with some pills, that had been crushed up and mixed in with some juice, and a bag of frozen peas.

“Are you still in pain?” he asked, handing her the glass. She shook her head, but he knew she was lying. He removed the blanket, and began to ice her feet. Louise had removed her shoes and socks, and, upon inspection, her feet did not look swollen, or red, or have any kind of markings on them. “I think you'll be okay,” said Bob, pulling the blanket back up. “Try and get some sleep,” he kissed her on the forehead, before leaving the room.

“So, what happened, Bobby?” Linda practically pounced on him as soon as he entered the restaurant.

“Apparently, her wheelchair slipped off the curb, and she had to slam her feet down,” said Bob, re-tying his apron.

“But she's okay?”

“Yeah, there's no marks or anything, and I gave her some medicine. I'm just gonna let her sleep.”

“Okay. I'll go up and check on her later.”

Louise did not awaken properly until dinner time, thankfully free of pain, and was able to walk to the table using her crutches.

“How you doin', sweetie?” asked Linda, rising to her feet as Louise entered the room.

“Fine,” said Louise, moving back a bit so Linda couldn't hug her. She sat down, and they all started to eat.

“So,” said Bob about halfway through the meal, breaking the silence. “I've decided that we're going to press charges against Logan.” Linda looked up at Bob, but Louise did not look up from her plate.

“Really?” asked Tina.

“Well, yeah; he's responsible, and he should be punished. I'm going down to the police station after dinner.”

“I'll go with you!” said Linda, and Louise looked up, looking slightly confused. “Tina, you can babysit.”

* * *

Logan Barry Bush got the biggest shock of his life when he opened the front door later that evening, and came face-to-face with two policemen. He froze.

“Logan Bush,” said one, stepping forward, “you're under arrest for aggravated assault and battery against a minor. You don't have to say anything, and anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney; if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”

His instincts kicked in when he was handcuffed.

“Hey!” he cried. “Hey, stop!”

“What is going on here?” Cynthia shrieked, having been roused by the noise.

“Ma'am, your son is under arrest for assault and battery. We're taking him down to the station, where he will be held for bail. As he's a minor, you and your husband are welcome to come.”

Cynthia immediately grabbed her purse and coat, and she and Tom followed Logan as he was led to a police car. She covered her face as he was put in the back; the neighbours had come out to watch.

At the station, Logan was taken into a small room, while Tom and Cynthia were made to wait in another room.

“What the hell is going on!?” she demanded.

“Mr and Mrs Belcher have pressed charges,” an officer told her. “Right now, your son is being questioned, and he will either be released on bail, or held until the court case.”

“What court case?”

“For the crimes he's been charged with, ma'am. If it's decided that the crime was serious enough, then it will go to court, and you and the Belchers' will have to give evidence.”

“But this is ridiculous!” Cynthia exploded. “He only pushed her! It was just a little push.”

“Ma'am, I would advise you to get a lawyer,” was all the officer said before walking away.

“A lawyer!” Cynthia fumed, and she sat down, shaking her head. “This is insane!” Tom paced for a while, looking worried, before sitting down beside his wife.

“A lawyer,” he said, with an air of finality to his voice.

“We don't need one,” said Cynthia. “As if this will even make it to court!”

“Well, they said if it's serious enough...”

“Don't even go there; that girl's injuries are nothing to do with Logan! Anyone with half a brain cell can see that.”

“Okay,” Tom sighed. “If it does end up going to court – if – then we will need a lawyer. I don't want our son going to prison.”

“I don't, either. What can we do?” Cynthia got up and began to pace.

“Well, let's say it will end up in court; we need a good lawyer, and we need evidence.”

“Evidence?” She stopped pacing and looked at him.

“You know, anything that can prove it was an accident; we'll need to look into that.”

“Yeah, you're right,” Cynthia sat back down. “My friend, Lacey, has a really good lawyer; he got her out of that theft charge, remember?”

“Mm-hm,” Tom nodded, rubbing his temples.

“I was there, and he's really good. He'll help us; he's just what we need.”

* * *

If the two families hated one another before, that was nothing compared to the tension between them now. Cynthia was all ready to march to the Belchers' apartment, and have it out with them. The only thing that stopped her was Tom saying that it could be taken as a threat.

“You could get arrested, too,” he told her.

“It's their fault!” she seethed. “They couldn't just let it go, could they? Their daughter's out of hospital, what more do they want?! Our son had to spend the night behind bars! _Behind bars!_ ” she screeched. “They took his fingerprints! If he gets convicted, he'll have a criminal record. This will affect his job opportunities!”

“I know,” he tried to calm her. “But we've got a court case to prepare for, so let's focus on that. Logan's being released today, as well, so let's just be there for him.”

For once, Cynthia backed down.

The Belcher family were also preparing for the court case, working closely with the police. They were lucky in the fact that they had lots of evidence; Logan's admitting that he pushed Louise and wanted to hurt her, photos of Louise's injuries, her hospital report, and the CCTV footage.

“I don't see how we can lose,” said Linda one morning, as the kids' came into the restaurant before school. Louise was now on crutches, and in a walking boot, and this was hopefully to be her last week of half-days. She'd finally ditched the jacket and leggings, as it was too hot. Her scars appeared to have faded enough that they weren't instantly visible, as Bob and Linda couldn't see them.

“Do I need to be there?” she asked, resting her hands on the stool because she couldn't climb. In all honesty, she didn't care.

“I don't think so,” Linda said. Both she and Bob had noticed that Louise didn't appear to be as enthusiastic as they thought she would be. Perhaps she was still not sleeping properly, as she just seemed tired all the time.

Truthfully, Louise wanted to feel happy knowing that Logan was most likely going to prison, she really did. She just couldn't work up the energy. She supposed that when she was done with physical therapy, she would stop feeling so drained, and her body would stop feeling so heavy. “You know,” said Linda, when the kids' had left. “I'm worried about her.”

“Me, too,” Bob admitted. “Maybe she's sleeping too much? Like, maybe she should stop sleeping in the afternoon?”

“Yeah, maybe. But she's different now; she just doesn't seem happy. I know the doctor did say it's normal for her to feel a bit down, but I hate seeing her like this. Hey, I've got an idea; why don't you take her out after school and get some ice cream?”

“Alright,” said Bob, nodding. Anything to put a smile back on her face. Maybe if he took her out, just the two of them, for some daddy-daughter bonding time, she would stop ignoring him. “Maybe she can pick the movie tonight, as well? Oh, wait, weren't you going to sing with Gene tonight?”

“Ah, we can do that tomorrow.” Linda couldn't help but beam as she pictured herself outside the restaurant, singing and dancing her heart out, while Gene accompanied her. They'd been practising every evening, and she couldn't wait for the passersby to stop and marvel at her and her beautiful boy.

“Alright, I'll take her to Moo's Clues.”

So, that's where Bob and Louise found themselves after school. Trying to cheer her up, he'd told her that she could have any ice cream she wanted. They were sat at the little table, Louise with her two scoops of Ripple Fudge Caramel Delight, Bob with his Cookie Dough, they ate in silence. “How's the ice cream?” Bob asked after a while, but Louise didn't look up or even acknowledge him. “Louise?” Still nothing, and he sighed. “Louise!” he raised his voice slightly, and she jumped a little bit, looking up at him.

“What?”

“How's the ice cream?” he repeated.

“It's ice cream,” she shrugged. “Can't really mess it up.” She noticed he was still looking at her. “What?”

“It's just – how come you keep ignoring me?”

“Ignoring you? Dad, do you realise how much you sound like a teenage girl right now?”

“I'm serious, Louise. I have to repeat myself several times just to get you to even look at me.” She looked down at her ice cream, fiddling with her spoon.

“I wasn't ignoring you,” she muttered.

“What? You weren't?” and she shook her head. “Then why don't you answer me?”

“Because I don't hear you!” she hissed, glaring at him. Bob's jaw dropped; it all made sense now. He wanted to slap himself; he couldn't believe that he had actually forgotten about her hearing loss. Well, he hadn't _forgotten_ , it just didn't come to mind.

“Louise, I'm sorry,” he said sincerely.

“Should think so,” she stirred her ice cream vigorously. “You should know better than to go around accusing people without any proof!”

“I'm just – not used to it.”

“Well, I'm not either, in case you hadn't noticed. I'm a little bit deaf now; you should know what that's like; you're old,” she glared at him again, and Bob felt terrible. He knew from experience that Louise wouldn't talk unless she wanted to, but he had never thought to actually _ask_ her.

“So.. what do you hear?” he asked tentatively. He saw her face twist, and prepared for a sarcastic remark.

“Low voices are hard to hear,” she revealed. Keeping her eyes firmly on her bowl, she continued, “you and Tina are the hardest; you're both so quiet.”

“Sorry; I'll, uh, keep that in mind.”

“When everyone's talking at once, it all gets mashed up,” said Louise, surprised at herself for opening up.

“Like how?”

“It feels like trying to listen to two radio stations at once.” Louise had never listened to a radio in her life; that was for ancient people, like her parents. But she had seen enough movies and TV shows, where characters had been switching between stations, getting a garbled mess, and that was exactly what it sounded like.

“Okay; we'll work on that.” Louise only nodded, still focusing on her ice cream. “Louise?” and she looked up at him. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Whatever, Dad.” But Bob was sure he could see a glint of relief in her eyes.

* * *

One warm, sunny afternoon, Linda and Gene were standing outside the restaurant. Gene had his keyboard all set up, and Linda was next to him, her heart racing with excited anticipation.

“Mother, are you ready?” asked Gene in his deepest game show host voice.

“I'm ready, baby! All right!” she fist-pumped, throwing her head back. Gene began to play.

“ _Summer lovin', had me a blast,”_ he sang.

“ _Summer lovin', happened so fast,”_ Linda turned to face Gene as they continued singing. Neither of them had microphones, but their enthusiasm carried their voices far. They'd borrowed a small speaker from Teddy, which was underneath the keyboard stand, and that was enough for the music to be loud enough. _“Tell me more, tell me more, was it love at first sight?”_

Inside the restaurant, Bob had to smile as he watched his wife and son; they looked so happy. Passersby began to stop and watch, giving them even more encouragement.

“Hello, everybody,” Gene grinned, after the song, turning on the charm. “This next one's a classic; you'll all know this, so sing along!” Pressing a button on his keyboard, he turned to Linda, as a pre-recorded beat rang out. _“I'd do anything for you, dear, anything. For you mean everything to me,”_ he sang, bopping along in time, and Linda beamed. A few members of the small crowd recognised the song, and began to clap in time. Gene took Linda's hand, and they started to walk jauntily up and down the street, singing all the while.

The audience began to drop coins into the plastic jar while calling for more.

Tina and Louise were sat in a booth, watching. Teddy was in his usual seat, watching, as well. The restaurant was empty, apart from him.

“Are they gonna make this a weekly thing?” asked Tina.

“I don't think so,” said Bob. “They probably want to.”

“If they do, they'll just drive everyone away,” muttered Louise, swinging her legs.

“The idea is to earn some money, Louise, not attract customers to the restaurant.”

“Got that right; nobody'd in their right mind would wanna eat here, or stand around outside having to listen to that,” she nodded toward the window, where Linda was crooning _“Feed the Birds”_ from “Mary Poppins.”

“Louise,” warned Bob, but she didn't look at him, and they continued to watch the show. Linda finished singing and took a deep bow, as the crowd applauded. She then stepped aside and gave Gene the stage.

“ _Let it go, let it go, can't hold it back any more,”_ belted Gene, standing in front of the keyboard, throwing his arms out, his imaginary cape flaring behind him. The children in the audience squealed and got closer, dancing around.

In the end, after two hours of singing, they'd made $75. Not bad, not bad at all.

“Oh, Bobby, that was amazing!” cried Linda, cackling. “We're definitely going to make that a regular thing!”

“Yeah!” Gene yelled, spinning on the barstool, full of adrenaline. “Oh, we have to do _“Suddenly Seymour,”_ and _“Time to Say Goodbye”_!”

“Gene, we don't speak Italian.”

“It's never too late to learn!” he declared.

* * *

Despite Bob and Linda's attempts to help Louise, she didn't improve. Two scoops of Ripple Fudge Caramel Delight did little to lift her mood. Picking the movie didn't help. Making cupcakes with Linda didn't help (which she usually enjoyed, because she got to eat the remaining frosting), nor did going out to fancy restaurants, courtesy of her gift certificates.

She was awakened by nightmares almost every night, which interrupted her sleep, making her grumpy the next day. Although she was still sarcastic, she sounded bored, like her heart was no longer in it. She was no longer interested in her favourite things.

“I'm gonna take her to About a Toy,” Linda had announced a few weeks later. “She hasn't spent that gift voucher yet; that'll cheer her up.”

It was now summer, and it wasn't long until school broke up.

“Well, it'll have to be tomorrow, Lin; we have to go to the school.”

“Right. Oh, I'm not looking forward to this,” Linda sighed. They had gotten a phone call that morning from Ms LaBonz, saying that she needed to speak to them about Louise's grades. It must be bad if she wanted to see them both.

So, they headed down there when school was out, and met up with Gene and Tina, who were waiting outside Louise's classroom. They had to remain there, while Bob and Linda went inside. LaBonz wasted no time in getting right to the point.

“Louise's grades are at an all-time low,” she said, looking at Louise, who was sat in between her parents, arms folded and scowling.

“We know our kids don't always get the best grades, but -” began Bob, but LaBonz cut him off.

“All. Time. Low!” she snapped, causing the parents to jump. “We've given her a chance to catch up, but's just not good enough.” She began pulling out papers. “A D- in Science, an F in Math, D in History. We did a spelling test yesterday, and she got 3 out of 20!” That last one shocked them; Louise was usually good at spelling. Bob took the paper and looked through it.

“Wait, most of these are right,” he pointed out. “Cavity is spelt right, so is fate, and this,” he narrowed his eyes. “Ted talk? Unusual, but she got that right, too.”

“I didn't say Ted talk,” said LaBonz, “I said tectonic. Cavity was gravity, fate was freight, and clips was eclipse! Mr Belcher, Louise really needs to learn to focus.” But Bob was still staring at the paper, and the penny dropped.

“Where is she sitting?” he asked, and Louise, still scowling, jabbed her thumb over her shoulder.

“Why is she still sitting at the back?” asked Bob, having looked where she was pointing.

“What?”

“We told you when she came back to put her at the front!” said Linda. “You know she's partially deaf; how is she supposed to get the right answers when she can't hear you?”

“Well.. she didn't ask for any help,” LaBonz faltered. As far as she was aware, no one had put Louise in the front of any of her classes.

“That doesn't matter! These grades do not count,” said Linda. “Move her to the front, and if her grades don't improve, then we'll talk it over.” She rose, along with Bob, and led Louise out of the room.

* * *

Logan was also struggling at school; everyone had completely distanced themselves from him. Things had gotten a little better after Louise had been rescued, but the news of his arrest and assault charge had somehow got out, and schoolmates had begun avoiding him like the plague. Even Scotty and Jason had stopped hanging around with him and barely texted him any more. His 16th birthday had passed quietly. He felt very alone.

Cynthia's friends had distanced themselves, as well. She no longer invited them over for drinks, because nobody bothered showing up any more.

“It's all the Belchers' fault!” she raged to Tom and Logan at the dinner table.

“That's what I keep saying!” said Logan.

“They just keep pushing and pushing.”

“Don't get involved with them,” Tom warned.

“Why not!? It's them that caused all of this!”

“Because,” Tom sighed, “they can tell the police, who can use it for more evidence. Do you want to get jailed or fined for harassment?” He didn't understand why he had to keep explaining it to her.

“Of course not; I'm just saying that they're really holding onto this. They just want to cause us as much pain and misery as possible.” Logan nodded, his face thunderous.

“I think I'll do what that policeman suggested, and sue the council,” said Cynthia.

“What?”

“Well, you know; if they had filled in the well, like they were supposed to, this wouldn't have happened. I mean, how hard is it to do a simple, little job like filling in an abandoned well?”

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” asked Tom.

“Of course I'm sure!” she snapped. “It's because of their negligence that a little girl almost died, right?” There was a not-very-nice smile on her face.

“Don't do anything rash,” he warned.

“I'm not!”

“I really don't think that'll work; they'll just argue that Louise wouldn't have fallen if Logan hadn't pushed her.”

“You're right; they'll definitely come back to that.”

“And it's not like the well was never going to be filled in; they'd only drained it at the beginning of February.”

“All right, I get it!” she snapped once again. “Fine! If I can't sue them, I'll sue Bob.” This caused both Tom and Logan to look at her.

“What?” Tom felt like burying his head in his hand. “What for?”

“Intimidation,” she said smugly. “After all, he did threaten my child. See how he likes it.”

* * *

Louise, Gene and Tina walked down the school corridor. The final bell had rung, and Louise could not wait to get home. It was the last day of school, and she was not going to waste another second of it inside that prison.

“Oh, hang on a second,” Tina began stepping backwards, “I forgot something.”

“Is it your groove? Are you going to get it back?” asked Gene.

“No; I left some friend fiction in my locker, and I need to finish it. Oh, and I also left Jimmy Jr's sweatband.”

“Okay, well, we'll wait out here,” said Louise, “I've been to school once today; I don't need to go again.”

The brother and sister waited and waited, but Tina did not re-emerge. Louise was secretly grateful for the rest; climbing stairs made her feel like she'd run a marathon, and she was using the opportunity to catch her breath. “What's taking her so long?” she complained, when Tina hadn't come out after five minutes.

“I don't know. Wanna go find her?”

“Nah, I'll wait; you go ahead.” Louise leaned against the wall as Gene went inside, occasionally tapping her crutches against the ground.

Logan stormed down the street, fuming. He'd had a terrible day at school, with one thing after another going wrong for him, and he was filled with anger.

As he walked down the street, his hands balled into fists, muttering angrily to himself, he spotted Louise standing by herself, and he saw red.

“You!” he snarled, striding over to her, and she looked up at him.

“Back up,” she said, holding out her arm. “You almost killed me once; you're not getting that chance again.”

“'Almost killed you'? Rubbish! Don't be so dramatic!” he scoffed. Louise glared at him.

“I had dehydration, hypothermia, gangrene, and blood poisoning. Just one of those things can kill a person. I had them all, because of you,” she informed him.

“Bull, did you have all of that. You're lying. That fall must've given you brain damage.”

“Well, if I do have brain damage, it's because I'm standing here talking to you!”

“I bet you don't even need those crutches.” Louise tightened her grip on them.

“Wanna try and take them and find out?”

“What, so you can get me charged with something else? Is there anything you won't do?”

“Uh-oh, there aren't any wells around here,” said Louise, after surveying the ground. “Looks like your fresh outta luck.” Logan's face reddened.

“It was an accident!” he snapped. He got closer, pointing at her face. Louise stood her ground, refusing to back away. If she hadn't had been such a coward the last time he approached her, she might not have ended up in the well. Besides, knowing her luck, he would probably push her into the street, and she'd get hit by a bus, or something. “But you just watch your back, because the second one won't be!” Louise couldn't say anything, as Logan had continued down the street. Looking back at the door, she saw Gene and Tina.

“Finally!” she huffed. “Come on, hurry up; I wanna get home _before_ it gets dark.” Tina and Gene did not say anything, but followed her, and they made their way home. “What the hell took you guys so long?” she snapped.

“I couldn't get my locker open,” said Tina quietly.

“You kids are quiet,” said Bob that evening at dinner. Louise kept her eyes on her plate, looking unconcerned, but Gene and Tina exchanged guilty looks. “What is it?” Gene opened his mouth, but then closed it. Tina began to groan.

“What's the matter?” asked Linda.

“Logan threatened Louise today after school!” said Tina, and Bob and Linda's jaws dropped.

“What?!” Linda shrieked, and Louise jumped slightly, looking up. “Louise, he threatened you? Why didn't you say anything, baby?”

“You heard him?!” Louise glared at her siblings.

“Louise, what did he say?” asked Bob.

“Nothing, it's no big deal.”

“What did he say?”

“He said to her, 'watch your back, the second time won't be an accident,” said Gene.

“That little jerk just can't help himself, can he?” Bob fumed. He rose from his chair and left the kitchen.

“Bobby, where are you going?”

“I'll be back soon,” he called.

“Oh, God, you don't think he's gone to find Logan, do you?” Linda looked worried.

“Dad's not that bright,” shrugged Louise.

“Wait, maybe he is!” Gene gasped, then he shrugged. “Nah, you're probably right.”

Bob returned a few hours later, and entered the living-room, where his family was watching a movie.

“Bobby! Bobby, what'd you do?” Linda almost spilt her wine. Almost.

“Relax, Lin.”

“But what'd you do? Where'd you go?”

“I went down to the police station,” Bob seemed to be containing a smile, “and I got Louise a restraining order against Logan.”

“What?”

“He's not allowed to come near her, he's not allowed to contact her in any way; no texts, phone calls, letters, or carrier pigeons.” He held out the order and handed it to Louise.

“Uh, no offence, Dad, but this is just a piece of paper.”

“No, Louise, this is a court order; if he comes near you or contacts you, he'll be arrested.”

“I thought he already got arrested.”

“He did. If he approaches you again, he'll be arrested again. But he obviously can't control his temper, and if he has any sense, he'll stay away from you.”

“Fine by me,” Louise muttered, turning back to the TV.

“You sure this isn't just going to make them madder at us?” whispered Linda when Bob had sat down.

“I'm just concerned for her safety, Lin. I feel better knowing that he can't come near her."

* * *

As the date for the trial loomed nearer, Bob and Linda focused their attention on the restaurant, and their kids. It was now the summer holidays, and business was still good for them. Over the past couple of weeks, it had slowed down, but now they were maintaining a steady pace.

Louise was now able to bus tables and run food, but Bob insisted she come and do prep every so often to keep her from getting too tired.

“Bobby, have you seen my concealer? I need to cover my under-eye circles,” said Linda, lifting plates, and checking underneath packs of buns.

“Um, no, why would you think I've seen it?”

“I thought you might have used it to cover up another pimple.”

“Oh, my God. I haven't seen your makeup, Lin, and if I had, I wouldn't leave it in the kitchen.”

“Huh, must've used it all up. That's my sixth one. Oh, well. Oh, and Gene needs some more samples.”

“Okay; give me about five minutes.”

* * *

A few nights later, Linda's eyes opened at the sound of quiet moaning; she sat up, as did Bob.

"I'll go," she offered, getting out of bed and putting on her dressing gown. She went through the hall and into Louise's room, where she was fidgeting in her sleep. Kuchi Kopi was on the floor, and Linda picked it up. "Come on, now, sweetie," she whispered, placing her hand on her daughter's forehead. "It's all right," she soothed, gently stroking Louise's head as she continued to squirm. Usually, the feeling of someone's hand on her head was enough to let Louise know that she wasn't alone, she wasn't trapped underground.

Linda continued to whisper to her, but Louise seemed to be having a particularly bad nightmare and her whimpering grew louder. "Okay, baby, come on," Linda said quietly, pulling the covers back. "Come with me," she gently took Louise's arm, being quick to catch her daughter as she almost overbalanced and fell, and led her into her and Bob's bedroom.

There, she put Louise in the bed, and climbed in next to her, and Linda stroked Louise's temple, just above her eyebrow, while she twitched, not fully awake. She eventually soothed her back to sleep. “Bobby,” she said the next morning, “I really think we ought to get Louise some therapy. She's not getting better.”

“I know, Lin. I know I've been saying that she won't talk about it, but she does need it.”

“She's lost her spark,” said Linda sadly, and it was true; Louise was different. She wasn't the same Louise any more; she had lost that something that made her _Louise._ “All right, I'm gonna start looking later. Oh, there's my babies,” she beamed as her children entered the restaurant. “Louise, honey, we're going to get you a therapist,” she said before she could stop herself.

“I don't think so.”

“Your father and I feel that it would be good for you.”

“Yeah, well, you know nothing.”

"Louise, it would really help you, so you're going."

"I don't want to go."

"It would do you a lot of good."

"No!"

"In fact," Linda continued, "I think it would do us all some good. They have sessions for families."

“Absolutely not.”

"Louise, you can't just expect to go on with your life as if nothing happened. That week you were trapped was the worst time of my life."

"Worst time of _your_ life?" Louise muttered. She shot her parents a dark look. “I'm not going, end of story.”

Two customers decided to enter at that moment, putting an end to the conversation.

* * *

In between working, physical therapy, looking for therapists, and parenting, Linda had managed to find the time to take Louise back to a doctor, hoping they could help her this time. There had to be something they could give her for the constant head and stomach aches. Surely, the doctors would be able to help with the nightmares, and the mood swings.

Bob knew it wasn't good news by the expression on Linda's face when they arrived home. Louise went over to sit with Gene and Tina, looking unimpressed.

“He said she has anxiety,” she whispered, a few tears running down her face. “My little baby has anxiety!”

“How can we help her?”

“There's medication,” Linda sniffled, wiping her eyes, “but I don't like the idea of pumping her full of pills. And there's also a kind of therapy. They said if she hasn't improved in four weeks, to bring her back.”

“Okay, well, if you don't want to give her pills, then we'll try the therapy. If that doesn't work, then.. we'll have to give her the medication.”

* * *

Less than three weeks later, the Belchers' were sat in Ocean City Crown Court, waiting for the trial to start. The bailiff was waiting for the judge to enter, as was the jury.

Bob was sat at the plaintiff's table, next to their lawyer, Jim Radcliffe, while the rest of his family were sat behind him. It was decided that as Louise was so young, she would sit on the public bench, unless she was needed to testify, in which case she would be called to the stand.

Logan was sat at the defendant's table, next to the Bush's lawyer, a serious-looking man, a big briefcase on the table.

“All rise,” announced the bailiff, as the judge entered the room, “the honourable Judge Briars presiding. Please be seated.”

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Calling the case of the Louise Belcher vs Logan Bush. Are both sides ready? Will the clerk please swear in the jury?” he asked, when both lawyers had given the okay, and the clerk rose.

“Will the jury please stand and raise your right hand? Do each of you swear that you will fairly try the case before this court, and that you will return a true verdict according to the evidence and the instructions of the court, so help you, God? Please say “I do”.

“I do,” came the jumble of voices.

“You may be seated,” finished the clerk. Ron Sheldon, the Bush's lawyer, took the floor.

“Your Honour, and ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” he began, “the defendant has been charged with the crime of aggravated assault and battery against a minor. The evidence will show that an altercation between my client and the minor in question led to the minor falling into a well. The evidence I present will prove to you that my client meant no malice. I strongly feel that my client has been unfairly treated by the defendant's family for what was merely an accident on his part.”

Then it was Jim's turn to address the room.

“Your Honour and ladies and gentlemen of the jury; today you will hear the truth; you will learn the history between Mr Bush and Miss Belcher, and you will know why it has reached this far. Miss Belcher was simply running an errand for her father when she encountered the teenage boy who had been bullying her. In an attempt to physically harm her, Mr Bush approached Miss Belcher, issuing a threat. He then assaulted her by shoving her, hard enough to send her stumbling backwards, where she fell eighty feet down a well. Miss Belcher would remain in the well for five days, before being rescued, and would spend two months recovering from injuries. Your Honour, the evidence today will prove that the accused is a bully whose anger issues almost cost a child her life, and he will likely only get worse.”

Louise zoned out as the first witness was called; her mother. This was all so boring; when were they going to get to the part where they threw Logan in jail?

After several hours, Sheldon rose again, to present his case.

“You Honour, I do not dispute that the actions of my client caused some terrible injuries for Miss Belcher,” he began. “However, there is no way my client could have predicted the outcome would have been what it was. But Miss Belcher is not entirely blameless. Many witness accounts – even from the family of my client – have described Miss Belcher as a very intelligent young girl. Why is this important, you ask? Miss Belcher is known to have antagonised my client; she would deliberately seek him out in order to annoy him. She was known to be 'fearless', the sort of child who wouldn't back down from a challenge. It is claimed that Miss Belcher went so far as to hire a biker gang to cut off my clients' ears. I ask you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, does that sound like the kind of child that can be bullied?”

Bob and Linda were silently fuming, while Cynthia looked over at them smugly. “Of course, I admit, my client is not completely blameless; he's admitted to the push that led to this incident. He simply acted out in a moment of madness, and the unfortunate accident occurred.”

Bob could not believe what he was hearing; did he actually expect the jury to fall for that tripe?

Jim Radcliffe took the floor and put the case across very simply.

“You Honour, I don't doubt that Miss Belcher 'antagonised' Mr Bush,” he began. “It has been well-documented that Miss Belcher is stubborn and strong-willed; however, this does not excuse the fact that Mr Bush was already in therapy for anger issues, and was bullying a little girl. Not just bullying; twice, before the incident occurred, Mr Bush attempted to assault Miss Belcher, and has intimidated and threatened her several times. First, he tricked her into leaving her home, with the intention of performing a wrestling move on her, in an attempt to cause her physical pain. The second time, he attempted to throw ice-hardened snowballs at her, again with the intention of physically harming her. These are not the only times Mr Bush has harassed Miss Belcher; the very first time they met, he would not allow her or her siblings to walk a certain way home. The second time they met, he stole her hat, an important item of hers, and made her think that her possession, which carries deep, sentimental value, had been burned, and gone forever.

“The biker story is nothing more than an attempt to discredit Miss Belcher and her family; the biker gang themselves have denied this, and even though they would consider themselves friends of the Belcher family, the gang have said they would not lie for them. The only evidence for that is the word of the defendant.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I bring you back to my previous statement; because this young man could not control his temper, a little girl spent five days in a well, almost dying because of it. She spent even longer in hospital, and has had several surgeries, including amputations, and is left with back problems, scarring, and permanent hearing loss. Thank you,” and he returned to his seat.

Bob and Linda were beginning to feel very confident.

“The prosecution may call its' second witness,” said Judge Briars, and Radcliffe rose once again.

“I call Mandy Stieblitz to the stand.” Louise turned in her seat to see Rudy's cousin rise from the back of the room, and approach the judge.

Now it was Bob and Linda's turn to look smug; this was their trump card.

“Please stand,” said the clerk. “Raise your right hand. Do you promise that the testimony you shall give in the case before this court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you, God?”

“I do.”

“Please state your first and last name.”

“Amanda Stieblitz.”

“You may be seated,” Mandy sat down, and Radcliffe approached her.

“Miss Stieblitz, what is your relationship to Miss Belcher?”

“She's friends with my little cousin, Rudy.” Mandy looked a little bit nervous, but she felt like this was the right thing to do.

When news of Logan's arrest had broke, a policeman went to Huxley High, to see if there were any witnesses to his harassment of Louise. Mandy had immediately spoken up, having had personal first-hand experience of this.

No less than 11 girls had come forward to say that Logan had bullied them all over the years, treating them very similarly to the way he'd treated Louise. All of them mentioned that he'd only stopped when they grew taller than he.

“And you claim that Mr Bush bullied you, also?”

“Yes, sir. Not just me; almost all the girls in my class.”

“When did he start?”

“I was in fifth grade, and so was he. He used to trip me, call me names, and knock my books out of my hand, and one time, he tripped me in the cafeteria, so I dropped my food all down me.”

“Does this bullying continue?”

“No, sir.”

“When and why did it stop?”

“It stopped when I was about 13, and I was finally taller than him. He still calls me names whenever he sees me, but it's better than what he used to do.”

“You believe that's why he stopped bullying you?”

“Yes sir; all of my friends who were bullied by Logan, it only stopped after they grew as tall as or taller than him.”

“I see. And did you ever witness Mr Bush harassing Miss Belcher?”

“Yes, sir. It was during the snowfall, and he and his friends wouldn't let the kids sled, and were throwing snowballs at them. Rudy asked me to come to try and get them to leave.”

“And did you get them to leave?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How?”

“I threw snowballs at him; I'm on the softball team, so they wanted someone who was good at throwing.”

“Can you describe to the court what happened next?”

“Logan and his friends left, and I stayed for a bit to watch my cousin sled. They came back with Cameron, who's on the basketball team, and he threw huge snowballs at us, so we left.”

“And did you return the next day?”

“Yeah; Rudy saw Louise, her brother, and sister heading for the hill, and he was worried, so he called me.”

“Why was he worried?”

“He said that Logan was going to be there, and he didn't want anyone to get hurt.”

“And what happened next?”

“My friend Sarah overheard, and she was bullied by Logan, too, and she wanted to hit him with snowballs. So, we called up all the girls who Logan bullied, and asked if they wanted to join us, and they all said yes.”

“What happened when you arrived?”

“Logan was about to throw the hard snowballs at Louise, Gene and Tina, and we threw them at him. They were wearing armour.”

“Armour?”

“The kids were wearing saucepans, and baking sheets under their clothes, so they wouldn't get hit.”

“No further questions, Your Honour.”

Logan's lawyer did not have many witnesses, as not many had wanted to, and Bob felt that Ron Sheldon kept coming back to the whole “he meant no harm” spiel, as he repeated it several times. Currently, Cynthia was on the stand.

“And, Mrs Bush, was what your reaction when you discovered that Miss Belcher was stuck in the well?”

“I was shocked; I knew my son couldn't have done it on purpose. I was also angry at the workmen who left it unfilled and uncapped.”

“Were you at all worried about Miss Belcher?”

“Well, of course I was! That's why we stayed for hours that first night, to see if they would get her out.”

“The prosecution claims that you and your son returned to the well site a few days later, saying that you were both being harassed. Is that true?”

“I think we were all feeling the strain,” said Cynthia, “and everyone was under a lot of pressure. Perhaps I was a bit angry at them, but that was because I felt my son and I were being treated unfairly. It was an accident. I really feel that if the well had been filled in, this wouldn't have happened. I just hope another little child doesn't have to go through that.”

Louise sighed and rested her chin in her hands. How much longer was this going to go on?

“Mr Belcher, can you please stand,” the judge had asked at the end of the first day. He was only middle-aged, but Louise took one look at his round, yet wrinkled face, and decided that he was 80; the same age as her dad. “As you know,” he continued, “Mrs Bush has also filed a counter-claim against you, claiming that you harassed her son.”

“Yes, Your Honour,” Bob had said.

“What exactly did you say?”

“I said that if he ever touched my daughter again, I was going to tear his head off his shoulders,” Bob admitted. “I only said that because, at the time, my nine-year-old daughter had been buried in a well for three days with no food and little water. She'd just told us that she was afraid she was going to die,” he'd said, and a visible ripple had run through the courtroom. “So, I was really afraid, and under a lot of stress.”

“Thank you, Mr Belcher, that will be all.”

“So, when are they gonna tell us when he's going to jail?” Louise asked as the judge dismissed them.

“We won't find out 'til tomorrow,” Bob told her.

“What?!” Louise shrieked, “so I've wasted a whole day here, for nothing?” She tugged at the collar of the black dress she had been made to wear, frowning.

“You didn't waste your day.”

“Oh, didn't I? I just spend five hours sat on a bench, listening to the most boring stuff ever!”

“The boring stuff needs to be gotten out of the way, sweetie,” said Linda. “Tomorrow's where they show all the evidence to the jury, and then we'll get the verdict.”

* * *

The following day, they were back in the courtroom, where Ron Sheldon was presenting his final argument.

“Your Honour, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, what we have here, is a classic example of an accident blown out of proportion. Now, I am not talking about the rescue effort needed to save this child's life; please understand that I have no problem with that. I am talking about the unfair treatment that my client and his family have received during and after this accident.

“Now, you have heard about how my client and Miss Belcher would butt heads; this is undisputed. But my client is not as evil and heartless as he has been made out to be. Firstly, Mr Bush approached Miss Belcher on the evening of Friday, the 22nd of February of this year, wanting an apology. Ladies and gentlemen, a simple apology for when Miss Belcher accidentally threw a rotten melon on him. My client felt humiliated, and perhaps did not react in the best way. But he reacted the only way he knew how; by wrestling. My client was enrolled in several classes; karate, wrestling, and he felt that this was how problems were solved.

“Mr Bush admits that he was still angry at Miss Belcher when he saw her that Friday night, and wanted to perform this wrestling move on her. When she fell in the well, Mr Bush immediately dropped to his knees, concerned for Miss Belcher. He did go home without telling anyone, admittedly, but my client was in a state of shock, and was having trouble coming to terms with what had happened. My client was remorseful, and returned to the well site to apologise to Miss Belcher, and stayed for almost five hours to watch the rescue proceedings. Mr Bush and his mother felt that there was nothing they could do to help, so they left, but continued to follow the updates.

“Mr Bush and his family showed complete concern over Miss Belcher for the following five days, and after her rescue, they tried to move on with their lives. However, Mr Bush was bullied and isolated at school, with Mrs Bush experiencing similar ill treatment. My client's schoolwork has suffered, which will likely affect his grades. They feel that bringing this case to court is wholly unnecessary, as Miss Belcher has recovered and is back at school; her hospital bills have been paid, and so Mrs Bush can't understand why it has come to this.”

Linda was shaking her head; she'd never heard such claptrap in her life. But it was now Radcliffe's turn, and he wasn't going to go easy on them.

“Your Honour, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my opponent is doing the best to minimise the emotional and physical damage this young man has caused Miss Belcher and her family. On the evening of February 22nd, Mr Bush approached Miss Belcher with the intention of physically hurting her, as shown here,” he pressed a button, and the CCTV footage of that day was played on the screen. “Let's not forget that he admitted to this in his own police statement. He claimed to only want to perform a wrestling move on her, but pushed her, as he was angry. Mr Bush also admits in his police statement, that if Miss Belcher hadn't fallen in the well, he would have continued to physically harm her.

“When she ended up in the well, he then ran off and left her there, without telling anybody what he had done. Miss Belcher was discovered half an hour later by two teenage girls, who alerted her parents. If they had not found her, it may have taken more than a day to locate where she was. By all accounts, if the rescue workers had started their digging a day later, Miss Belcher would have died.

“Mr Bush showed no remorse for Miss Belcher; he only returned to apologise when the police arrived at his house. Both he and his mother still don't seem to understand the severity of the situation; it does not matter that the well was not filled in. Louise Belcher would not have spent 114 hours trapped 80 feet underground had she not been pushed by her bully. Mr Bush continued to go about his life, completely unconcerned for Miss Belcher's safety; only caring about his treatment at school. He and his mother only returned to the well site to complain to the Belcher parents about the way they had been treated, which was not due to anything the Belchers' said or did.” As he spoke, Radcliffe flipped through photos of Louise strapped to the backboard, bruised and dirty, and a few of her in the hospital. Bob had been anticipating this, and so he had secretly taken a few, including one of her in the recovery room, with the oxygen mask over her nose and mouth, and her arms strapped to boards.

“Once Miss Belcher was freed from the well, her ordeal was far from over. She spent more than four hours in the emergency room, followed by two months in hospital, two weeks of which were spent in intensive care. She needed treatment for various internal and external injuries, including dehydration, hypothermia, kidney failure, blood poisoning, a fractured tail bone, gangrene, which was advanced enough for Miss Belcher to have amputations; she also suffered from reduced blood circulation to her limbs. Whilst in hospital, she suffered from psychosis, in which she ripped out her IV's, and had to re-learn how to walk. And most recently, Mr Bush has again threatened Miss Belcher, telling to 'watch her back,' and the second time 'won't be an accident.' Mr Belcher is so concerned for his daughter's safety that he had to issue a restraining order against Mr Bush.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I reiterate this; the actions of this young man almost cost a little girl her life.”

* * *

Now, they were waiting for the jury to return and read out the verdict. Both families were confident they were going to win.

Bob and Linda didn't see how they could lose; they had photo and video evidence, plus lots of witnesses.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” asked the judge, and the head juror rose.

“We have, Your Honour,” she held a sheet of paper in her hands, which she then gave to the judge.

“Bob Belcher, you have been found not guilty of harassment, and intimidation. Logan Barry Bush, you have been found guilty of aggravated assault in the second degree, and battery with the intention of causing bodily harm. The court sentences you to five years in prison and ordered to pay $10,000 in compensation. Thank you, Jury, for your service today. Court is adjourned.”

“ _No!”_ Cynthia shrieked, as the bailiffs approached her son. “You can't do this!” She turned to face a juror as Logan was, again, placed in handcuffs. “Why are you doing this? How can you do this?!”

“It was unanimous, ma'am,” said one juror. “We all agreed that as Logan admitted he approached Louise that day with the intention of harming her, it counts as premeditation.”

Louise gave Logan a smile as he was led away.

“Wow, does that mean we get $10,000?” asked Tina.

“That's what the judge said,” said Bob.

“Wow! $10,000!” cried Gene, bouncing on his chair.

“Don't get too excited Gene; the money's mine. I'm gonna spend it on... I don't know what yet, but it's gonna be big.”

“You know,” said Bob, “we could use a bit of it so we can go to Japan,” and Louise brightened a little.

“Yes! Now we definitely get to go to Japan!”

“All right!” Linda cheered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done! What did you think?  
> I'm so glad to finally reveal Logan's comeuppance.  
> I hope you enjoyed reading!
> 
> The Bush's lawyer was based on Dave Grafton, the Southern lawyer from the original version of "Cape Fear." He popped into my mind while I was writing this and wouldn't leave.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all, I'm back with the next chapter for you.  
> This another long one, so why not make yourself a cuppa, and put your feet up?

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 13

After what turned out to be a pretty uneventful summer, the Belcher kids were back at school. Louise was now no longer on crutches, and was walking-boot free, but she still had a rather noticeable limp. She'd gotten into the habit of putting all of her weight on her heels when she walked, which they were trying to break her of, as it caused her pain.

They'd found her a therapist, but Louise didn't breathe a word about her ordeal. Linda and Bob persevered, hoping that therapy and her anxiety medication (which they hid in her food) would help her.

Louise was quite proud that, over the summer, she'd gotten quite good at lip-reading; her father was a bit difficult, because of his moustache, but the rest of her family were easy. It really was quite a useful skill, and she couldn't believe she'd never learned it earlier. Now, she could listen in on conversations; she was much better at it than Tina.

“Hey, guys, how was your summer?” asked Regular-sized Rudy as they arrived outside of school.

“Same old, same old,” said Louise, not looking the least bit happy to be back.

“It was good,” said Tina. “On our days off, we went down to the beach and looked for sand dollars. It was fun watching the new Junior Life Guards working out.”

“Cool. Oh, Louise, you don't have crutches any more,” Rudy tactfully ignored the dark circles under her eyes.

“Took you that long to notice?”

“No, I just think it's great. But...” he hesitated, and Louise looked pointedly at him. “I just – are you allowed to not wear the crutches?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Your limp,” said Rudy before he could stop himself.

“Well, I'm _sorry,_ next time I get _pushed_ into a well, I'll be careful to land in a way that _doesn't_ break my ankle awkwardly!” she spat, her eyes blazing. “I'll have this limp for the rest of my life! And are we really just insulting each others' appearance now, because..” she deliberately looked him up and down, “you _really_ don't wanna go there.”

“Whoa,” Rudy muttered, as Louise stormed into school.

“She doesn't mean it,” Gene told him. “She's just a bit...” he trailed off, and waved his arms, and Rudy nodded.

* * *

That evening after school found Louise and Bob at the Wharf Arts Centre, in second-row aisle seats for Cake 3: The Winner Cakes it All. She honestly couldn't believe she'd ended up here; that weird, infected part of her that made her feel bad for other people (bleh) had kicked in.

She crossed her arms and scowled as Bob waited impatiently for the curtain to rise. The only reason she had agreed to go to this stupid show was because there was literally nothing else on that she wanted to see. Amateur production of a play from the 1800s? No, thank you. Ballet? Not even if you paid her. Shakespeare? She would rather gouge her own eyes out.

But there was a time limit on the tickets she had been sent, and she was determined to put them to use.

They arrived home after the show, Bob excitedly clapping his hands together, and Louise with the same thunderous expression on her face.

“How was it, my baby?” asked Linda, darting away from Bob's “caking”.

“That was the most boring thing I've ever seen in my life.”

“How could you not love it, Louise?” Bob was now caking with Tina, who was groaning.

“It's a bunch of grown men playing a baby's game.”

“Well, maybe there'll be something else there you'll like,” Linda opened the laptop, and began to look at listings for the Centre. “Ooh, Agatha Christie!”

“No.”

“Okay. How about 'Annie'?”

“No way.” Louise looked up as Linda gasped, and her face lit up.

“Oh, my God! They're showing “Phantom of the Opera”!” she cried, and Gene clutched his face.

“Oh, my God, oh, my God!” he screamed, running around in circles.

“That sounds like something I'll never wanna see,” Louise sat down at the table.

“Louise, I have a feeling you'll like this,” said Linda enthusiastically. “It's -”

“I don't wanna hear it; it's opera; that's one of the most boring things in the world!”

“It's not an actual opera. It's set in an opera house, and there's an opera singer, but she's not a main character. It's a musical -”

“Done,” Louise made to get up, but Linda gently grabbed her arm.

“It's about a disfigured man that haunts the opera house.” Louise paused; that sounded kind of interesting. “A few people die,” Linda said in a sing-song voice.

“Fine, I'll go,” said Louise. “It's either sit through that or Annie.”

“Can I go with you?” Gene asked.

“I'm sorry, sweetie, but there's only two tickets,” Linda told him, and Gene growled frustratedly.

“Not fair, I wanna see it; I was born to play Christine!”

“Perhaps if it comes back, we can go another time.”

“Yeah!”

“Ooh, Louise,” Linda was looking at the laptop again. “You've got a message from the Wonder Wharf Wonderdogs; they want you to throw out the first pitch in the first game of the season.”

“What?” Bob quit caking and moved forward. “That's so cool!”

“I'm not doing that,” said Louise.

“No? Why not?” asked Bob.

“Because that's for boring people who like baseball. And I don't want to. I wish these people would get it through their heads; I don't wanna be in the magazine, I don't wanna be on TV, and I don't wanna throw out the first pitch!”

* * *

The following day, Louise was in her P.E. lesson at school; her first one since her rescue. Luckily for her, she didn't have to do much, as she still needed to take it easy. She had begrudgingly participated in the stretching warm-up, and in the passing and dribbling of basketballs, and she had felt okay. Miss Schroeder knew that she was allowed to sit out if she felt tired or in pain, but Louise was not going to let that happen. Sure, she hated P.E., but being the only one who couldn't handle it would be so embarrassing.

Miss Schroeder had ordered them to run a couple of laps, and Louise began to jog; she was getting used to the shoe fillers now. She only did two laps, jogging one, and speed-walking the second, before she began to feel pain, and so she slowed to a walk.

When the lesson had finished, her feet were still hurting, so Louise went into the changing room with the rest and went into one of the bathroom stalls. She gently eased off her trainers, gasping internally at the pain. The ends of her feet were red, swollen and throbbing. She sat there for a while, waiting for the swelling to go down, and hoping that no one would notice where she was. She pulled her dress back on, and stuffed her P.E. kit into her backpack, waiting for the other kids to leave. She didn't want to attempt to put her shoes back on; they didn't look as if they would fit.

Louise heard Miss Schroeder come into the changing room, barking at them to hurry up, before leaving.

When the room was silent and empty, Louise opened the stall door, but remained where she was, hearing Miss Schroeder re-enter the room, looking for stragglers. Schroeder looked surprised to see her there, but then she saw Louise's feet.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I can't put my shoes back on,” Louise admitted, flushing with embarrassment.

“Okay, just wait here a moment,” said the teacher, observing the swollen, red limbs, and quickly walking out of the room, heading to her office. Picking up the phone, she dialled the school nurse. “Liz, can you come to the gym as quick as you can, please?” he asked when she had picked up. “It's Louise Belcher; her feet are hurting. Could you bring some ice packs? Thanks.” She then returned to the bathroom. “I called the nurse,” she said. Louise didn't look at her. “How did it happen?”

“I don't know,” Louise admitted. “They just started hurting.”

“Why didn't you ask to sit out?”

“I don't know,” Louise repeated.

Liz arrived soon after, examined Louise's stumps, and began to ice them.

“Are you able to get your shoes back on?” she asked, and Louise picked up her shoe and gently attempted to place it over her stump, but she was unsuccessful; it was too swollen. “Okay, let us take you down to reception, and then I'll call your parents to come and get you.”

“'Kay,” there was nothing else for it. Of course, there was the little problem of actually getting down to reception; Louise could not walk, nor could they carry her. Eventually, they had to bring in an office chair with wheels.

Louise felt so embarrassed, being wheeled along by the nurse and teacher. They were both talking to her, but she didn't answer, instead she just looked ahead at where they were going. She hoped more than anything that nobody would see her; she wanted to cover her face as it was.

Fortunately, the reception was on the ground floor, so they didn't have the added difficulty of climbing any stairs, and it wasn't long before they were in the main reception office, and they placed the chair next to the sofa. The receptionist looked up as they entered, but remained silent.

Miss Schroeder sat down next to Louise, while Liz headed up to the front desk and picked up the phone, dialling the Belcher home. Louise lifted her legs, trying to elevate them. There was a small table she could have rested her feet on, but she didn't want to risk placing her tender stumps on a hard surface with no cushioning available.

“Hello, Mrs Belcher? This is the school nurse. Your daughter, Louise, is having trouble with her.. feet, and we'd like you to come and collect her.”

“ _Is she okay?!”_

“Yes, her feet have just swollen up. Okay. Yes, she's all ready to go. Okay, thanks,” Liz hung up the phone and approached Louise. “Your mother's on her way,” she told her. “She said she'll be about twenty minutes.” Louise only nodded in acknowledgement, and she left the room.

Louise sat in silence until Linda arrived. She could see the receptionist glancing over at her every so often, and she refused to meet her gaze.

“Well, at least you get to spend the day at home,” said Miss Schroeder brightly, trying to cheer her up.

“Yeah,” muttered Louise, not looking at the teacher. Miss Schroeder didn't know what else to say, and so she just sat there with Louise, occasionally asking her whether her feet were still hurting.

Linda then arrived in a flurry of noise; she marched through the double doors, the empty wheelchair in front of her. Her bag was dangling off her shoulder, her jacket hanging over her arm and she was filling the room with her voice.

“Louise? Louise, baby! I hope you've got your stuff ready!” she then spotted her and hurried over to where she was. “Are you okay?! Sweetie, what happened?” she asked, taking in the sight of her feet. The receptionist was eyeing her discretely.

“They started hurting in gym,” Louise explained. “And I took my shoes off, and now I can't get them back on.”

“Well, we'd better get you home so I can look at it properly.” In one quick movement, Linda lifted Louise from her seat into the wheelchair. Miss Schroeder couldn't help but be impressed as he watched Linda roll up her jacket and place it on the footrest, before guiding Louise's feet onto the jacket. It was obvious that she had had a lot of practice.

Louise just had time to grab her backpack as Linda began to wheel her towards the doors, when a call from the receptionist stopped her.

“Mrs Belcher?” Linda swung around to face the young woman, not caring for anything except getting her baby home.

“Yes, can I help you?”

“Well, it's just.. you need to -” she faltered under Linda's strong gaze.

“What? I need to take my daughter home; she's in pain!”

“You need to sign her out, otherwise it'll be classed as an unofficial absence,” she pushed the school book towards Linda, who stared at her.

“'Unofficial absence'?” she repeated incredulously. “Seriously? Look at her!” she gestured to Louise, who looked away in embarrassment. “Can't you see her feet, the fact that she can't walk, and you're asking me to sign her out?”

“Y-yes, ma'am.” Again, Linda just stared at her, before snatching the book out of her hands and scribbling her name inside. Flinging the book back, she marched back over to Louise and wheeled her outside. Neither of them spoke until they reached the car, which was parked at the end of the path right outside the front of the school.

Again, Linda swiftly placed Louise inside the car, being careful not to knock her feet, and climbed behind the wheel.

“You okay, sweetie?” she asked as she started the car, looking in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah,” said Louise, not looking at her.

“You sure?”

“It's fine.”

“Well, I'm still going to ice them when we get home. Did the nurse ice them? Did you have to ask her? You shouldn't have had to, if you did; she should know what to do.”

“She did, Mom.”

“Okay.” Linda was silent for all of five seconds. “So, it started hurting in gym? Did you sit out of the lesson?”

“... No,” Louise admitted and Linda cast her a disapproving look in the mirror.

“Why not? You know what the doctor said; you have to take it easy. You can't do too much, too soon.”

“I did!” Louise snapped. “I hardly did anything; I just walked around, but it still started to hurt after a while.”

“So, why didn't you ask to sit out?”

“I don't know.”

“You need to start taking this seriously, Louise. The next time your feet hurt, or anything else, you tell me, or your father, or the nearest adult. Or even your brother and sister.” She eyed her through the mirror again, as they turned onto their street.

* * *

When they had pulled up outside their house, Bob was waiting anxiously, the same as Linda had done previously. Linda took Louise inside and got her settled on the sofa while she went to fetch some ice packs. Upon returning, she placed a cushion on her lap, gently grabbed Louise's legs and turned them towards her. Resting the stumps on the pillow, she applied the ice packs.

The television was on, and Louise was watching cartoons. “Are they still hurting?” she asked after a while.

“A little bit,” said Louise. Linda removed the packs and examined the limbs properly for the first time. The feet were still swollen and red and now several angry blisters had formed around the edges of the stumps.

“You've got blisters,” she informed her. Louise didn't look away from the TV. “I don't want you walking for the rest of the day; even if it's from here to the kitchen, you use your wheelchair, alright?” Louise only nodded, and Linda continued, “and don't put your shoes or anything back on, your feet need to breathe. If it's still hurting by tomorrow, I'll take you to the hospital.” Louise nodded again, and they sat in silence, watching the television, Linda adjusting the ice packs every so often.

Louise muttered something that Linda couldn't hear and she looked up at her. “What did you say?”

“I said I don't want to go back to school tomorrow,” said Louise, resolutely keeping her eyes on the screen.

“You have to,” Linda told her.

“No. I don't want to.” Louise actually pouted.

“Why?” she asked, but Louise didn't answer. “Come on, tell me why.”

“Don't wanna go back in a wheelchair,” she mumbled, and Linda understood.

“Look,” she said, leaning towards her, her tone gentle. “You can't let a little thing like this set you back. I know you; you're strong. You won't let this defeat you. This is a symbol for all you've overcome, and you should be proud of it. And if anyone gives you any trouble, you tell me and _I'll_ give them trouble.” Louise had no doubt that she would. Linda was the very definition of a mama bear. She didn't really know what else to say.

“I still don't wanna go,” she said after a few minutes, and quickly cut Linda off when she was about to speak. “I get what you're saying, about how I should be proud, but it's... it's embarrassing. I'm the only kid in school who has to use crutches or a wheelchair, and the only one who has amputations. Everyone keeps staring at me, and I hate it,” she had not meant to say all of that, and she frowned to herself. Linda was staring at her.

“I know it must be difficult for you, but if anyone ever makes you feel bad about yourself, you just remember that you're here. Yes, you had amputations, but the most important thing is you are still alive, and that's all that matters.” Again, Louise didn't know what to say. She stared at her stumps. She didn't think she could ever be proud of them. She knew, no matter what, that she would hate them for the rest of her life. She knew that she would spend the rest of her life regretting the decision to back away from Logan; she would always wish for her toes to somehow miraculously grow back, but she was now realising just how glad she was to be out of the well, alive. She was remembering what it was like being trapped in the well, her knees stuck against her chest, her arms forced down by her sides, being unable to move, and crying because she was so afraid she was going to die.

“... Can we talk about something else now?” she muttered, turning her attention back to the television, and to her surprise, Linda complied.

Louise was still watching cartoons when Gene and Tina came home, and they went upstairs to see Louise. They knew that she had gone home, due to her feet hurting, but that was it.

As they entered the living room, they caught sight of her swollen feet, now covered with the new Kuchi Kopi blanket she had gotten from About a Toy, but they kept quiet; they had quickly learned to not say anything about it to Louise; the best thing to do was to act like they didn't notice the stumps.

So, both Tina and Gene sat down on either side of Louise, and stared at the TV, Tina trying not to look at the elevated stumps in front of her.

“Anything good on?” she asked as casually as she could.

“Not really,'' replied Louise, picking up the remote and flicking through the channels.

“Louise, I got something for you,” Louise looked up just in time to see Linda plonk the laptop, a notepad and pen onto her lap. “You can plan the Japan trip. You can find us a hotel, where we're gonna eat, transportation; everything.”

“Okay,” Louise visibly brightened, and she opened the laptop.

* * *

“Louise, sweetie!” Linda called again the next morning. “Time to get up!” She'd already gone into the bedroom, but Louise had said she was just getting up. That was five minutes ago. Bob, Gene and Tina were already at the table. “Louise!”

“Alright, alright!” came her irritated voice from the bedroom. Linda nodded, reminding herself not to get angry, and resumed fixing breakfast, discreetly crushing up Louise's pills, and mixing them in with her milk. A pained cry caused her and Bob to rush into the room. They found Louise sitting up in bed, the covers thrown back, looking down at her stumps. Several of the blisters had popped and now the sheets were stained with yellow pus. “I just sat up and it happened!” said Louise.

“Bobby, start the car!” Linda ordered, leaning closer to Louise, but Bob leant forward and picked his daughter up. Bob was about as strong as an average man, but Louise didn't weigh a thing. Anyway, it would be quicker to just place Louise in the car, rather than lifting her into the wheelchair for thirty seconds, before carrying her downstairs, and then lifting her into the car. He tenderly carried his child through the house to the front door, while Linda followed, clutching Louise's compression socks, her shoe fillers, a damp cloth, a pair of slippers, and an ice pack. She threw all of these things into her bag, and followed Bob to the car, calling at Gene and Tina to follow them.

Whilst on the way to the hospital, Bob drove, and Linda tended to Louise in the back seat, gently dabbing at the stumps with the cloth.

Gene and Tina were sat silently in the front. It didn't look like they were going to school, which was nothing to complain about.

* * *

Louise spent the rest of the week at home, until her mild infection cleared up. She spent that week in bed with the laptop, planning for Japan. It did a great job of keeping her distracted. She had already picked out their hotel, and what they were going to visit and see. They were only spending four days there, and she intended to make the most of them.

The evening before she was due to return to school, and she was on the sofa in the living room, typing away, when Bob handed her a calculator.

“I go back to school tomorrow, not today,” she told him.

“This is to make sure we don't go over budget for Japan.”

“I have $10,000!” she exclaimed.

“Well, we don't wanna spend everything on the trip.” She stared at him. “I mean, you could use that money for college.” He didn't really like the idea of Louise having so _so_ much more money for her college education than his other two kids, but there wasn't really very much he could do about it.

“College? Really?”

“Well, yeah; don't you wanna go?”

“I dunno; I'm nine. I don't think about that stuff,” she ducked her head, and resumed writing in the notebook.

“It might be good for you to learn to budget, then,” she caught the meaning in his voice.

“Fine, I'll stick to your stupid little budget.”

“Okay, $3,000.”

“So, Louise, what are we gonna do when we're over there?” asked Linda, bringing in hot chocolate for everyone.

“Stuff.”

“What kinda stuff?”

“I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.” 

“Okay...” said Linda slowly.

* * *

Barely a week later, Bob came into his bedroom to see Linda filling a form out.

“What's that?” He looked over her shoulder. “'Little Miss Bog Harbour beauty pageant'? Lin, don't get me wrong; you look good for your age, but I don't think you can pull that off.”

“It's not for me; it's for Louise.” Upon hearing that, Bob blinked.

“Louise wants to enter a pageant?”

“Not exactly,” she hedged. “It's gonna be a surprise.”

“Oh, my God,” Bob pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lin, are you sure this is a good idea?” He noticed there were tears in her eyes. “Lin?”

“Bobby, do you remember that my concealers went missing?”

“Uh, yes, I.. absolutely do remember that.”

“Louise has been taking them!” Linda sniffled, before continuing. “She's been taking my makeup to cover her scars.”

“What?” Bob sat down on the bed next to her. “How do you know?”

“I've been finding strange marks on the booths and benches; yesterday I was wiping down a stool, and I saw it; it was the same stool that Louise leaned on.”

“Are you sure it's her?”

“Yes, Bobby; my make-up's been going missing, and have you noticed that we can't see her scars? Also, there's the same marks on her sheets.”

“Oh, God,” Bob covered his mouth, feeling awful. How could they have not known?

“And what with her being diagnosed with depression.. she must be feeling terrible, Bobby. I feel like I've failed her,” Linda sniffled again, wiping away a tear.

“You didn't fail her,” Bob put an arm around her. “We're doing everything we can to help her; she has medication, she's going to therapy, and she has us.”

“I just want her to be happy, and know that she's beautiful. She doesn't need to hide her scars.”

“I get it, completely, I'm just not sure this is the right way to go,” he gestured to the pageant entry form.

“It's not? But if she wins, then she might feel pretty.”

“Well, Louise isn't a girly girl; I don't think she'd enjoy it. Plus, I don't think she'd be allowed to wear her ears.”

“Oh, yeah,” Linda hadn't thought about that. “I just can't stand to see her like this,” she confessed.

“Me, either. But, in time, she'll get better.”

“I hope she will.”

“I think this evening will cheer her up,” said Bob, and Linda brightened a tiny bit.

“I think you're right.”

A few hours later, they were all piled in the car.

“Mom, where are we going?” asked Tina, noticing the woman was dressed up.

“It's a surprise,” was all Linda said.

“I swear, if it's that stupid wine train, dinner theatre, or any kind of theatre, I'm going to rip my arm off, and beat you to death with it,” said Louise, her stony gaze fixed straight ahead.

“Louise,” Bob caught her eye in the rearview mirror, and he gave her a significant look. “Be nice.” She only huffed and folded her arms.

“Wait, why are we here?” asked Gene, as they pulled up outside the fire station. “Are they having another open day?”

“Oh, my God!” Louise groaned and threw her head back. “Don't make me do this again! I would actually rather die!”

“It's not an open day,” Linda said as they all climbed out of the car, “but I think you'll enjoy it.”

“Oh, really, Mom? You think so?” her youngest asked sarcastically.

“I do.” Louise reluctantly removed herself from the car, and followed her family inside, past the offices and storage rooms, until they had reached the lobby/conference room.

When they entered, they were greeted by an explosion of cheering and applause, and Louise was surrounded.

Slightly confused, she looked around at all the happy, grinning strangers around her, and got a feeling of deja vu. She looked over at the rest of her family, who were all beaming widely, slightly bemused.

“Louise, these are all the people who helped get you out of the well,” said Bob, squeezing his way through the crowd.

“Really?” There were so many of them.

“Ooh, look it's the mayor! Hi, mayor!” Linda waved wildly as Louise was lifted onto somebody's shoulders. Louise craned her neck, but could not see the mayor, as she was paraded around the room. It felt good, she had to admit; seeing everyone, again, cheering for her. She had to smile; her first real smile in ages.

The room was packed; almost every police- and firemen, digger, and volunteer had shown up, a few of them had dressed up a little bit. From her vantage point, Louise could see a small stage with a little table on it, with a backdrop of black curtains, and there were rows and rows of chairs facing the stage. The room was decorated with balloons and streamers, and a long buffet table full of food and drink, where Gene had already made himself quite comfortable.

“What's going on?” she asked when she had been placed back on the floor.

“We decided that we wanted to thank everyone who saved you,” said Linda, her eyes shining.

“What?”

“Well, we're so grateful to them,” Bob told her, “we wanna show them how much.”

“But why all this?”

“Oh, this wasn't our idea,” said Bob, “we just told the firemen that we wanted to thank them, and they organised this – because they wanna celebrate you.”

“Me?” Louise felt shocked, although she shouldn't have; she was _Louise Belcher,_ of course people should want to celebrate her, but she hadn't been expecting this.

“Well, yeah; everyone worked night and day, and not a lot of them got to see you, so this is their chance.”

Louise had a surprisingly good time, though she did have to force herself to socialise. Patrick and Simon were there, as were Tim and Charlie, which was her second time seeing them. She met dozens of the volunteers who dug relentlessly, and the policemen who supervised the crowds, and the firemen who worked to keep the well warm and oxygenated, and she met the men who operated the drilling rig. She met Richards and Davis for the first time, and she met a lady called Carol who helped her family during the process.

Later in the evening, the chattering and happy mingling came to a halt when Mayor Thomas Sanders stepped up onto the stage, and raised his hand for quiet. Slowly but respectfully, everyone sank into chairs.

“Hi, mayor!” Linda, a glass of wine in each hand, lifted her arms, sending little red droplets in all directions.

“We're gathered here today to mark a great moment in our town's history,” he began. “The hard work, determination, and perseverance that you showed over those five days showed America the meaning of small town community and hard work. You men went above and beyond your duties; you worked non stop, dropping down almost 100 feet underground, day and night, hour after hour. You did not do this for fame or glory. You did it for one reason and one reason only; a life needed to be saved. Even when hope began to fade, you did not stop; you were not going to let this child die. The resilience and success of this mammoth effort shows the inherent value of a human life. You did not give up; even when things looked their bleakest, you carried on. You have shown America the meaning of volunteerism. Now, when America thinks of our little town, they will think of the selfless hard work, and character you have shown. In our eyes, you are heroes,” he began to applaud, with the other occupants following suite. “I would like,” the mayor continued when the applause had died down (Bob was crying), “I would like to bestow upon you, the Community Spirit Award, in honour of your services.” He held up a large certificate. “Come on up!” he cried, and the men arose, and made their way up on to the stage.

“Thank you,” said Patrick, as he, Simon, Tim, Charlie held the large, embossed certificate, and paused while the others gathered around them as their photo was taken by Officer George. “This is overwhelming; thank you for the kind words, mayor. We really don't feel like we deserve to be called 'heroes'; we were just doing our jobs. There is someone here that we'd like to honour; the real hero – Louise Belcher!”

Louise froze as everyone turned to stare at her, beaming and clapping. Both Bob and Linda were openly sobbing now, and she rose and walked up onto the stage.

“Louise,” began Chief Richards, “you've shown courage, strength, and bravery beyond your years. If anyone deserves these awards and praise, it's you. Your determination, not only through the ordeal, but your recovery, was nothing short of amazing. We're so proud of all you've overcome, and you should be, too. You truly are the hero in all this, and we'd like to present you with..” he paused while grabbing a plaque from the nearby table, “this award for Courage and Bravery, from the Fire Department.”

Louise took the plaque, needing both hands as it was heavy, as more applause rang out.

“That's my baby! That's my little baby girl!” yelled Linda, standing up and whooping. Louise studied the plaque; it was mounted on polished rosewood, and engraved in black on the shiny, gold surface, were the words,

“Seymour's Bay Fire Department

Courage and Bravery Award

Presented to Louise Belcher

In recognition of strength, determination and resilience.

Congratulations!

September 17th, 2019 Awarded by

James Richards

Above the writing, was the official fire department emblem.

She finished reading it and looked up to find everyone staring at her.

“Thank you, everyone,” she said, the words feeling slightly foreign on her tongue. “I really like this plaque,” and she really did; she just wished she had gotten it for any other reason. There wasn't anything else for her to say, and so she allowed the adults to gather around her, and dutifully posed for a photo. Bob managed to take one, wiping his streaming eyes vigorously.

When they arrived home later, Louise left the plaque in the living room when she went to bed.

“Louise?” Bob entered her room holding the plaque, “do you want me to leave this in here?”

“Leave it in the living room,” she said, pulling the blankets tight around her.

“Don't you wanna display it?”

“I don't need it.”

“You don't want it?”

“It's not like I need another reminder of this whole thing.”

“Okay, well, then, we'll keep it in our room for now.”

“Whatever.” He made to leave the room when he turned back around.

“Do you wanna open up the Burn Unit for a while?” he hoped that this time she'd say yes.

“I'm good.”

“Okay, then,” he tried to hide his disappointment. “'Night, then.”

"'Night.”

* * *

Louise sat at the table in her therapist's office, colouring. The room looked like a large, typical playroom rather than an office, filled with toys and games.

Louise went there once a week after school, whether she liked it or not. It wasn't _too_ bad; it got her out of work, and she wasn't forced to talk. It was basically an hour in which she was free to colour, draw, or play. She much preferred to colour, as she got to switch her mind off, and it prevented her from drawing anything too revealing, especially if her session was held after a bad night.

At that moment, she was concentrating on colouring in a Dizzy Dog picture, while the therapist, a middle-aged woman by name of Hannah, sat nearby.

“Why do we dream?” Louise asked suddenly, not looking up from her paper.

“Well, some people believe that it's a way of processing memories; others believe it's how the mind deals with things. There's many different reasons.

“But why?” Louise repeated. “What's the point? We don't need them. What happens when you dream the same thing over and over?”

“That's a recurring dream. They can mean different things, too. Like, I don't know, trying to prepare for something you think is going to happen, or something your mind is trying to tell you.”

“... How do I make them stop?” she asked quietly, focusing on her drawing.

“Well, what's your dream about?” Hannah asked gently, and Louise hesitated.

“It's about that day,” she said, “and everything's so real; it doesn't feel like a dream. I'm out walking into the park, and Logan pushes me into the well.” She paused.

“Perhaps this is your mind coming to terms with what happened,” Hannah suggested.

“Well, after he leaves, I start calling for help,” said Louise, her pencil slowing down as she remembered her dream.

_She was back, stuck in the cold, dark well, with bricks piled on top of her._

“ _Help! Somebody! Help me! I'm stuck!” she yelled. After a while, she heard her family calling her name. They were looking for her. “Down here! I'm down here! I'm stuck in the well!” She screamed as loud as she could, but they couldn't hear her, and she continued to yell until her lungs were burning._

“ _Louise?” came her father's echoey voice, and she sighed in relief._

“ _Yeah! I'm stuck; I can't get out! You need to get help!” Bob didn't appear to be listening; instead, it looked like he was looking around. “Dad? Dad, I need to get out!”_

“ _Yeah, you do,” he sounded distracted._

“ _Well, come on! What are you waiting for?” Bob looked away as Linda shouted over to him._

“ _No, I can't find her, Lin!” he yelled, leaving Louise confused._

“ _Dad, I'm right here, help me!” she screamed, but Bob began to move away. “DAD!”_

“ _Keep quiet!” he snapped._

“ _Dad, what are you doing? You can't just leave me down here!”_

“ _Why do you think I sent you out in the first place?” Louise's blood ran cold as her father left her._

“ _Dad! Come back! Come back! Oh, thank God!” she cried as he reappeared. She then heard a loud, scraping sound. Bob was covering the well with a large stone. “No, no! No!” she cried, as the stone was adjusted, and she was left in the pitch black. She began to scream._ “And that's when I wake up,” she finished. “It's the exact same, every time.” She paused again, focusing hard on her paper. “How do I get it to stop? It happens almost every night.”

“One way to make them stop is to talk about it.”

“I told you. What does it mean?”

“I'm not an expert on dreams, but it does sound like your subconscious is mad at your father. Do you blame him for what happened?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “It's Logan's fault, I know; but if he hadn't told me to go out, it wouldn't have happened.”

“Does your dad know about the dreams?”

“He knows I have nightmares, but that's it.”

“If you don't want to tell him, then perhaps writing down your dreams when you wake up might help.”

“What?” Louise looked up at her.

“Sometimes, writing can be therapeutic; it helps you get out what you can't say.” Louise tilted her head, intrigued. “If you decide to do it, you could get a book or an app about dream interpreting, and it helps you understand the deeper meaning. Sometimes, just knowing can help the nightmares.”

“Huh.” It actually sounded kind of interesting.

“Of course, if you ever do need to talk about it, you can tell me, and it'll remain confidential. Unless, of course, you want me to tell your parents.” Louise thought it over.

“Will it make the nightmares stop?”

“I can't say for sure, but it might.” The little girl paused again, pursing her lips.

“Well...” she began to hesitantly talk.

* * *

A few days later, Louise and Bob were at the farmer's market, shopping for ingredients for the Burger of the Day. Her mind was occupied; she'd been trying the whole writing her dreams down, but it didn't seem to be working, as she still had nightmares.

It did appear to make her fears seem less real when she read them over; Louise didn't understand why, but she wasn't about to question it.

Bob could tell that she was preoccupied; she remained silent even when he started talking to the food. No sarcastic comments this time, and he supposed that she had probably had another nightmare. He and Linda had both been trying to help her, but Louise didn't talk about her dreams, and there wasn't anything they could do or give her to make them go away. The only thing that would help was time.

He was a little surprised that she'd agreed to come with him; ever since she'd come home from the hospital, they weren't as close as they used to be, and it broke his heart. He'd spent the previous evening in floods of tears, when Hannah had told him about Louise's dream.

“I can't believe she blames me!” He'd cried on Linda's shoulder.

“She doesn't really,” his wife assured him, “she's just trying to deal with everything.”

“But it is my fault! If didn't tell her to go out, it wouldn't have happened! It's my fault.”

“Bobby, look at me,” Linda took his face in her hands. “This isn't your fault, okay? Remember what you said to me, the first night she was in the well? Logan's the one to blame; if he hadn't have pushed her, then it wouldn't have happened. He's the one who did this, not you.”

“But the only reason I sent her out was because she was.. causing chaos. I should have just let her play.”

“This isn't your fault,” Linda repeated firmly. “If Logan hadn't been such a little.. jerk, she would have gotten what had to get, and then came home. He's the one that did this, not you.”

“I would give anything to turn back the clock, Lin.” They both missed the old, crazy Louise terribly. What Bob wouldn't give to have her running through the restaurant, screaming at the top of her lungs, tackling people again.

That was why he asked her to come with him that day; hopefully, in time, she would see that he loved her, and he would never do anything to hurt her.

As they walked through the market, they were silent, both of them thinking. Bob was just thinking that he would maybe take her to a movie one night, when Louise let out a shriek and grabbed his arm tightly.

“Louise, are you okay?” His heart racing, Bob bent down next to her, not even noticing the fact that she'd dug her nails so far into his arm that she'd drawn blood. “What happened?” She was still gripping him, not making eye contact. He looked down and realised she was standing in a little pothole, and the penny dropped. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, and she nodded without looking at him, detaching her hand.

“Fine,” she muttered, willing her racing heart to slow down. He could see how embarrassed she was.

“Hey, listen, do you wanna quickly get something to eat before we head back?”

“Sure.”

“Alright, where do you wanna go?”

“Chicken on a Stick,” she said, and he blinked. Ordinarily, she would ask to go to Jimmy Pesto's, just to annoy him; she really must not be feeling herself. Then again, he wasn't really surprised at her choice; Louise loved fried chicken.

“Alright then.. Sweet Pea,” he added awkwardly.

“Don't call me that,” she insisted, as they made their way back to the car.

“Sorry. Is there any name you want me to call you?”

“Louise Belcher, Unquestioned Master of the Universe,” she said, and Bob chuckled.

“I'll just call you 'Louise' for short, how's that?”

“Fine; as long as you don't forget.”

“I won't.”

Bob liked to think that his children had slightly more refined palates than other kids their ages; they ate mostly home made food, and a wide variety of dishes and ingredients. They weren't the least bit fussy.

But now, as he watched Louise smother her chicken in ketchup, he realised that a child would always choose convenient fast food over quality, home made stuff.

* * *

Later that evening, after closing, the Belchers were sat together for their fortnightly group therapy session. They weren't really getting anywhere, as Louise still refused to talk, but they persevered.

At that moment, Louise was sitting, arms folded, looking extremely bored, while Bob and Linda spoke to the therapist.

“Louise?” the therapist's voice caught her attention. “Is there anything you'd like to say to that?” asked Vicky.

“I wasn't listening.”

“Your parents were just saying how you've been seeming a little on edge lately, and they're worried about you.”

“Oh, really?” Louise raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, that's why they're here; to help, and to be helped.”

“Why do they need to be helped?”

“Well, because, this has affected them, too.” That was what Louise couldn't wrap her head around. Why should the ordeal have affected them? They weren't the ones who spent five days trapped in a well; they weren't the ones who almost died. They had been free to come and go as they pleased during those long hours, while all she could do was sit there, in pain.

Bob and Linda sometimes wondered whether it was worth Louise continuing with the therapy, as she still never spoke about what she went through, or how she was feeling. She'd been going to her sessions for two months, and the only thing she had told Hannah was her recurring nightmare. But, they told themselves that she had the opportunity to speak; perhaps with time, she would open up more, and they wanted her to have that support for when she was ready.

“It can't be good for you to keep everything bottled up inside, sweetie,” said Linda, but Louise didn't answer.

“What does it matter to you?”

“You're our daughter, and we want you to be okay.”

“I don't get why you're even here, any of you. Why do you need therapy?”

“It's affected us, too,” Bob told her.

“Oh, yeah, it must have been so hard, sitting around outside for five days(!) Being able to walk, and eat and drink sounds terrible(!)”

“It's not about that,” said Bob. “We were worried about you.”

“It was hard to deal with,” Linda said. “We all need to come to terms with it.”

“Well, it's not like it happened to you!”

“No, but it happened to you! You're my daughter! You were trapped in there, and we couldn't help you, we couldn't see you. We had no way of knowing whether you were okay. At times, we didn't even know if you were alive!” Louise didn't have an answer for that.

“You see, Louise,” Vicky continued gently, “you family loves you, and it was very upsetting to see you in that situation. They wanted to help you, and they couldn't. The only thing they could do was wait; they didn't know if you were injured, and they were frightened.”

“We're not saying it wasn't hard for you,” said Bob, “but it was hard for us, too.”

“Mom and Dad thought you were gonna die,” said Gene quietly, and Louise looked over at him.

“We did, too,” Tina's voice was barely above a whisper.

“We felt so helpless,” Linda dabbed at her eyes, “honestly, it felt like we were trapped too, because that's how useless we felt.”

Louise was still silent. She still couldn't understand why they said it affected them so much.

“I'm the one who suffered, though,” she said, “I had broken bones, and blood poisoning, and all that other stuff, and you didn't, so why does it bother you?”

“Because you're our child, and it was awful to see you like that; it was horrible seeing you trapped, and we just wanted to get you out. I wish I have taken all your injuries and give them to myself,” said Bob sincerely. “Even though it didn't happen to us, we felt like it did, because we love you. Can you imagine Tina or Gene being in the well? You'd be worried about them, right?” Louise had to nod. “That's why we were worried, because we care about you so much, and we wanted you to be safe.”

Louise was still unsure about the whole “we suffered, too,” thing, but she had to admit, her parents made a point. She didn't think she would have been able to relax knowing her sibling was trapped 80 feet below ground, knowing that they could die at any moment. She supposed that perhaps, they were speaking a little bit of sense.

* * *

“Come on, we've got to find something in here!” Louise searched the bedside drawer in her parent's room, along with Gene and Tina. They were looking for stuff for the blanket fort they were making. They needed things to make it look like a real house, like lamps, and snacks, and piles of dirty laundry. There was no point in having a fort if it didn't look like their very own house. Tina and Gene had suggested the fort as a way of trying to cheer Louise up.

At that moment, Louise was under the bed, searching through one of the many boxes that her parents kept under there. Pulling the lid off one of them, she rifled through some boring old scrapbooks, before shoving it aside, and a folded piece of paper caught her eye.

Temporarily abandoning her search, Louise grabbed the paper and opened it.

“Louise? You okay under there?” said Gene, taking note of her motionless feet sticking out from under the bed. A few moments passed, before Louise wriggled out and stood up, looking like she could kill someone.

“What is this?” she asked, her voice dangerously low, holding up the paper. Looking closely, the eldest Belchers' could see a filled-out form with the words “Little Miss Bog Harbour Pageant” at the top.

“Oh, you found that,” said Tina. Linda, of course, had been so sure that Louise would have enjoyed it, that she let her other two children in on the idea.

“You knew about this?! What the hell is this?!” Louise brandished the form in her sister's face, and Tina could only groan.

“It was Mom's idea,” Gene told her.

“Of _course_ it was!” Louise fumed. “Of course she would do something like this! What, was she just gonna spring it on me outta nowhere?! Just expect me to go along with it like it was no big deal?” Louise crumpled up the form, threw it to the ground, and stormed out of the room.

With a quick glance at one another, Gene and Tina followed her. They caught Louise coming out of the kitchen with a large pair of scissors, and heading into her bedroom.

When they got there, they found Louise pulling a dress Linda had made for her out of her chest of drawers. It was a pretty little dress; white, with short, puffed sleeves, with a lace overlay, and a pink sash around the waist. Louise held the dress up, looking disgusted. “I bet that's why she made this; going to try and force me into this thing! What in the hell made her think this was a good idea?!” she raged. Her face set, she raised the scissors, ready to cut.

“Louise, Mom just wants you to be happy again,” said Tina quickly, and Louise stopped.

“What?” Tina sighed. She wasn't sure how to say it.

“Look,” she began, “you haven't been.. yourself since that whole thing, and that's okay; we understand. But it makes Mom sad to see you sad, and she thought this would cheer you up.”

“Doesn't she know me at all? Did she honestly think _this_ would cheer me up? And I don't need cheering up!” she added hotly. Gene sighed, before realising what he had to do. Placing his finger under his nose, he shifted into Dad-mode.

“Look,” he said in his best Bob imitation, “we don't pretend to understand what you're going through, because we can't. But you're our daughter and we love you, and we want to do anything we can to put a smile back on your face.” He removed his 'moustache' and looked at his little sister. “Mom and Dad just want to see you smile again. We all do,” he added, as Louise stared.

“Well, why should I pretend to be happy when I'm not?” she asked.

“We don't want you to pretend,” said Tina. “We want you to actually be happy.” Louise paused; for the past several months, she had felt nothing but rage, anger, and numbness. She didn't feel like there was anything that could make her happy. Sometimes, not even the upcoming trip to Japan could lift her mood.

“I don't think I can,” she admitted, her voice quiet.

“Will you try?” asked Tina. The truth was, Louise didn't have the energy to try; she'd heard of 'fake it 'til you make it,' but that seemed like way too much effort. She was tired enough as it was without having to be Shirley Temple 24/7. “You don't have to be, like, a Disney Princess or anything,” Tina added, “but Mom and Dad said that you won't get better if you don't try.”

Louise stared at the ground for the longest time, mulling it over. After what seemed an eternity, she lowered the scissors.

“Alright, I'll try,” she relented. “But only because I want you all to get off my back!” That was enough for Gene and Tina, and they engulfed her in a hug. “Alright, get off, get off.”

“I am so much better at being Dad than Dad is!” cried Gene.

* * *

The sound of constant drilling pounded in Louise's head, and she clenched her fists, wanting it to stop. Her ears were ringing, and she could hear nothing else except for the sound of a 45-pound jackhammer digging straight into solid basalt.

“Louise! _Louise!”_ Miss LaBonz's gravelly tones jolted through the drilling, and she jumped slightly. Right, she was at school, not trapped in the well.

“What?”

“Were you listening to what I've been saying?”

“No, you're boring me to death,” Louise rested her head on her chin, as a few of the students in her English class tittered. LaBonz sighed heavily.

“I said,” and Louise focused on the teacher's mouth, almost squinting. “... Madame Ruth,” she finished, and Louise blinked. That didn't make sense at all. LaBonz said something about a tree in Madame Ruth; how on Earth did that work out? She tried to decipher what that meant before she realised that LaBonz was waiting for an answer.

“Who's Madame Ruth?”

“I didn't say Madame Ruth, I said Malibu; the “Lemon Orchard” takes place in Malibu.”

“Well, maybe if you didn't smoke 50 a day, you wouldn't be so hard to understand!” Louise snapped.

“Enough!” growled LaBonz, for laughter had begun to arise. She pointed at Louise, “you can go and see Mr Frond after class. Now, we'll continue with what we were supposed to be doing. Poems. Go ahead and write your poems. It can be about anything!” she added, after a few kids raised their hands.

Poems; Louise pulled a face. Poetry was the worst; she'd rather spend the afternoon with Frond. Why did poetry even exist, it was so dumb. There weren't enough rhyming words.

Sighing, Louise began to write, not thinking or planning, just zoning out, and letting her pen do the work for her.

When she'd finished, she laid her pen down and quickly read it through. She blinked.

'I lie alone in the darkness

Awaiting to learn my fate

My life is in the hands of others

And all I can do is wait

There's a strange noise above me

Who is that calling down to me?

The ground starts to shake and I scream again

I can hear voices of reassurance and the shaking stops

But I am helpless, so helpless, there is nothing I can do

Nothing I can do to end this torment

When will it stop? When will I see the light?'

Holy crap, where had that come from? She tore out the page, and crumpled it up, and quickly wrote the most generic poem she could think. 'The fat cat sat on the mat, wearing a hat, holding a bat. Its name was Matt, and it saw a rat, which then went splat.' Hey, at least it rhymed.

It was raining, and so they were confined to the classroom at break time. LaBonz, not in the mood to deal with bored, energetic kids who just wanted to go outside, had plugged herself into her phone, and left them to their devices. She'd made no comment to Louise about seeing Frond, and so the girl remained where she was, brooding over what she had written.

“Hey, Louise,” Rudy dragged his chair over to her desk, and sat down. He saw her fist clench, though she continued to stare at her open workbook, and he got ready to get up. After a moment, her hand unclenched.

“Hey, Rude.”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing; just doodling,” she began drawing in her book.

“Oh okay.” They sat there in silence for a few minutes. “Did you hear that Ms Jacobson might be pregnant.” She closed her eyes and exhaled sharply through her nose.

“No, I didn't,” she said shortly, still not looking at him.

“Okay,” he repeated. “If you want me to go, I'll go. I won't be upset,” he told her, and she finally looked up at him.

“What makes you think that?”

“You don't seem to want company right now.”

“Look, Rudy,” Louise sighed and put down her pen, “you're right; I don't want company, but you can stay.”

“How come?”

“I don't know,” and she didn't. “I guess because... Look, I'm sorry I insulted you the first day back at school. I was just in a bad mood.”

“That's okay; I forgive you.” He hesitated. “I was just.. concerned.”

“Why?”

“Because you didn't have crutches.”

“Well, I told you why -”

“I know you did,” Rudy cut her off. “I was just a little bit shocked, that you were off them so quickly; I thought it was great.”

“... Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, part of me was thinking that you went against the doctor's advice; I don't know why,” he grinned at her, and she gave a small smile in return. “And, like I said, I couldn't believe that you managed to get rid of them so quickly.”

“Okay, thanks, I guess. It's just...” she lowered her voice. “I don't like people bringing attention to it. I know I walk weird now; you don't have to point it out, because I know.”

“You don't walk weird,” Rudy assured her.

“Whatever,” though a part of her was secretly glad to hear that. “Just – I don't need to hear things like that.”

“Alright, I understand. Hey, did you hear they're bringing out a Burobu comic book?” Louise straightened up.

“Now, this is the kind of thing you should be talking to me about. Tell me everything.”

* * *

The end of the week found Louise in the car with Linda, driving away from the restaurant.

“ _I'm so excited!”_ Linda sang, bopping to an invisible beat. _“Oh, yeah, I'm so excited!”_

Louise was most definitely _not_ excited. She knew Linda was taking her to that awful pageant, and she was resigned to her fate. That weird feeling inside her, that made her feel for other people, had been bubbling up again. She really, really didn't want to do this, but she really felt that she had no choice in the matter; they wanted her to be happy, and they really thought that this would make her happy.

She was feeling apprehensive; the place was going to be filled with dozens of loud, excitable, shrieking girls, her worst nightmare. Well, actually, her worst nightmare was not having any money, but still, this was a close second.

She couldn't help but pull a face; she was going to be forced into that ugly lace dress, have makeup put on, have her hair done, because of course she was; her mother was Linda Belcher. Louise subconsciously tugged at the tassels of her hat; if she was going to have to go through with this, then she was wearing her ears. She drew the line at taking her ears off.

The thought of parading around in front of people, having to pose and preen made her want to grab the steering wheel and crash the car. But they wanted her to be happy. She clenched her fists and took a deep breath.

She was surprised when they pulled up outside the Wharf Arts Centre, but it was probably where this stupid pageant was being held. She resolutely stared ahead as she followed Linda through the crowds. She was so lost in her own thoughts, that she barely registered Linda taking her seat in the audience. They were in the third row, and Louise could see a big stage, with something big in the centre covered with a large cloth, and she could hear orchestral music playing. “Ooh, I'm so excited, I can't wait!” Linda's face was flushed with excitement, and Louise sat there, waiting for it all to be over with.

This wasn't what she was expecting. A man in a tuxedo came out onstage to applause, and banged a gavel on the table. She blinked; that was weird.

“Sold! Your number, sir.” The penny dropped; they were there to see “Phantom of the Opera,” and she relaxed slightly. This was only slightly above a pageant.

As the on-stage auction went on, she grew bored; she didn't see any masked, disfigured man killing people, and she wondered if Linda had lied to her. The words “famous disaster” perked her up, and she straightened up, beginning to pay attention. “Perhaps we may even frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination, gentlemen!”

She jumped a little as the cover was whipped off the chandelier; at the same time, the lights went out, sparks emitted from the light, and the music suddenly became very loud. Okay, she had to admit, it was pretty cool seeing this huge chandelier rise up, right above their heads. She twisted around in her chair as the chandelier continued to rise, and nestled itself in the ceiling of the theatre. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad, after all.

On the drive home, Louise was slightly shocked at how much she enjoyed the show. Okay, the high pitched singing kind of hurt her ears, and she wanted to throat punch Carlotta, but the Phantom was cool. Very cool. He threw fireballs. She was probably going to be him for Halloween this year.

Oddly, she liked the music; not all of it, but some of the songs were very catchy, and were going to stick in her head. Although, she did wish that it ended with the Phantom going on a killing spree and slaughtering everyone; that would have made it so much better.

She hoped with all her might that Linda would never tell anyone that she had let out a little scream when the chandelier had dropped. But, come on, this huge chandelier had _dropped_ from the ceiling, sparks flying, and had stopped a few inches above her head! Shards of glass had landed on her hat. Once she had gotten over the initial shock, she was grinning widely.

“So, did you like it?” asked Linda, eyes focused on the road.

“It was okay,” she said, which really meant 'it was good.'

“Oh, yay! I knew you would. Ooh, now we can watch the movie together!”

“I've seen the show; what could the movie have to surprise me?”

“Okay. Well, the movie can't really compare to the show. Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed it, baby.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

* * *

It was now near the end of September, and Bob and Linda were in the kitchen preparing dinner, while the kids' watched TV.

“So, we'll do it after dinner?” Bob asked quietly, and Linda nodded.

“I mean, all we can do is ask; she'll either say yes or no.”

“Yeah, and we still have that $5,000 left; that'll cover some of it.”

“I hope it will; I haven't done any research, not until she says anything.”

“Well, if she says yes, then our insurance will cover the rest.”

After dinner, Louise retreated to her room, as was now customary for her. Bob and Linda waited for a few moments before going in, and Linda took up a carrier bag. “What's that?” asked Bob, and Linda showed him, and he nodded understandingly.

They knocked on Louise's door and waited until she gave them permission to enter. She was sitting on her bed, an empty notepad on her lap, with Kuchi Kopi by her side.

“Hey, sweetie, what you doing?” Linda sat on the edge of the bed.

“Homework,” Louise closed the pad and laid her pen down.

“Uh, do you need a hand with it?” Bob asked awkwardly.

“I'm good. What do you want?”

“We wanted to ask you a question,” Linda began. She didn't really know how to word it. “It's completely up to you, but... do you want to have.. prosthetics?”

“Prosthetics?” Yes, of course she did, but Louise had to stop and think. “Well, what would they look like?” If they looked even worse than her fillers, then probably not.

“Well, the doctor called us a couple of days ago, asking us to ask you. He said, that if you wanted them, they would be able to make some that looked real.”

“How? How would they stay on?”

“They make the foot out of silicone, and it goes up just past your ankle, just like a sock. And the toes would be a little bit heavy, so it would feel like your fillers.”

“Huh,” Louise thought it over.

“And it would be the same colour as your skin, so it would look and feel real.”

“Okay, then,” said Louise.

“Are you sure; it's completely up to you,” said Linda, not wanting to pressure her.

“I said yes, didn't I? How long will it take?”

“Um, about a couple of months,” guessed Bob.

“Why that long?”

“They've got to make the foot, make sure it matches you; stuff like that. So, it'll take a while to make it look real.”

“How will they know to make it look like me?” Louise began to have second thoughts; what if the prosthetics ended up looking like clown feet, with foot-long toes? If that were the case, she would rather stick with the fillers.

“They'll have some pictures, so they can make it match,” Linda told her, relieving Louise.

“Okay, then, I'll do it.” It would be such a relief to not have to wear socks all the time, and her feet would finally look normal.

Bob nodded and left the room; Linda made to leave, as well, but she hesitated, before sitting back down on the bed.

“I have something for you,” and she handed Louise the carrier bag. Louise looked inside, and she didn't know what to say. Reaching in, she pulled out a stick of concealer – just one of many. “Those are all for you.”

“Why?” she asked casually.

“I know you've been taking mine,” said Linda gently.

“No, I haven't.”

“It's okay,” Linda assured her. “I'm not mad. This is for you.” Louise remained silent. “Look,” her mother continued, “I don't think you need this, but if this is what you need to help you get through the day, then that's okay. I think you're beautiful; you're beautiful just as you are. It wouldn't matter to anyone if you were covered from head to foot in scars.”

“I _am_ covered head to foot in scars,” said Louise bitterly.

“I know, baby, but again, I really don't think you need to cover them. But, I'm not you, so if you want to cover them, you can. I won't force you to show them, not when you're not ready.”

“Okay,” said Louise.

“Now you have your own, you can stop taking mine,” Linda joked, trying to lighten the mood. “If you want, I'll show you how to apply it, so that you don't use it all in one go.”

“Yeah, maybe,” said Louise in an off-hand voice.

“Alright, love you, baby,” Linda rose again, then paused. “Oh, if you use them, be sure to wash it off before you go to bed; otherwise, it stains the sheets.” Louise only nodded, and Linda left the room.

“Mom?” she turned around. “... Thanks.”

* * *

The following week found Louise back at school, finding it very difficult to concentrate. A big part of it was due to lack of sleep; writing down her dreams still didn't appear to be helping, and she'd made up her mind to get a book on dream interpreting. Maybe if she could learn a bit more about dreaming, the nightmares would stop. The only thing that it did was make them seem less real after she'd woken up, which was of no use to her.

At least, for the time being, she'd had less and less nightmares about her dad leaving her in the well, but now they had been replaced with bad dreams about being in the emergency room. She'd dream about dozens of hands, poking and prodding her, sticking needles into her, gloved hands opening her mouth, her eyes; tubes, blood, loud beeping. She was particularly glad to wake up from those.

More than anything, she wanted the sound of drills to stop randomly filling her head. Sometimes, she swore she could feel the bricks piled onto her body. Sometimes, it felt like she couldn't even move.

Of course, anyone with half a brain cell could see that she was struggling. It was hard to miss the perpetual dark circles underneath her eyes, and her exuberance and craziness had been replaced with aggression, snappiness, and harsh insults.

The teachers knew she was in therapy, so there wasn't very much they could do; Louise would get physical as a last resort, and most people were not stupid enough to push her to that point.

One afternoon, she was displeased to find herself back in Mr Frond's office.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“Fine, until I had to come here and see you.”

“You're coping okay?”

“Coping with what?” she snarled. “With sitting here, talking to you? 'Cause I'm struggling with that!”

“Well, you seem to be doing fine,” he observed. “Miss LaBonz tells me you've found a way to express yourself.” When she stared at him, he produced a crumpled piece of paper. “She found your poem.”

“What?!” She snatched it back. “You read this?!”

“It's very good,” he said, and she glared at him. “It's great that you've found a therapeutic outlet. You know, if you ever wanted to join the creative writing club, there'd be a place for you.”

“I'd rather take a cross-country trip across Canada. Creative writing's for weirdos, like my sister. Can I go now? I'd like to get as far away from here as possible.” Without waiting for an answer, she stood and left the room.

As she limped down the hallway, she realised that Frond had unintentionally given her something to think about. Perhaps writing would be good for her? Writing down her dreams made them seem less scary, maybe this would be the same?

After school, she sat on her bed, staring down at her notepad. She tapped her pen against it, wondering what to write. How was she supposed to start?

Remembering back to her English class, Louise let her mind go blank and wrote.

She let her hand take charge, and just sat back, allowing the pen to glide across the paper.

When her hand stopped moving, she put the pen down, and apprehensively looked at the page.

“ _I'm not ready to deal with this”_ was all it said.

Louise tried to write a little bit every day. Usually, it was just before she went to bed, notebook propped up against her pillows. It did make her feel a little better every time she wrote; like little weights lifting off her chest.

She thought that there was no real cohesiveness to her writing; it just came out. There was stuff that looked like it could pass for poetry; paragraphs about her ordeal, with the names changed, like she was writing a story. Past and present tense, 1st, 2nd, and 3rd person; she wrote however it came into her head. She kind of enjoyed reading everything back; it somehow made dealing with everything a little bit easier. If her thoughts were on paper, then they weren't in her head, which was the goal.

Louise had begun to find comfort in writing, but as long as it was just for her; she didn't want to share it. She'd already been offered to tell her story in book form, and well as magazine articles, which really riled her, and she'd turned them all down. It was pointless, she thought; people knew what had happened to her, why would they need to keep reading about it?

Luckily for her, her parents maintained that if she didn't want to sell her story, then she didn't have to. And she really didn't want to; she just wanted to forget it ever happened.

Louise did not realise that she had continued writing. Closing the notebook, she hid it under her pillow, where her dream interpretation book was kept, and went to sleep.

* * *

A few weeks later, however, Louise was beaming.

“Please buckle your seatbelts,” came the voice, and she did so, grinning widely. She looked up at her father, who looked just as excited as she. She'd been waiting for this practically all year. Finally, she was going to the place where she should have been born.

“I can't believe we're finally going!” she tapped her hands against the armrests impatiently. “How long will it take to get there?”

“Fourteen hours,” Linda called from the other end of the aisle.

“Worth it,” said Louise, making herself comfortable.

Bob and Linda were not looking forward to the flight. It was the first time any of them had ever flown, barring Linda, and while the kids' were excited, Bob was not looking forward to being stuck in a metal tube for that amount of time.

It was worth it, though, to see the look on Louise's face. Not to mention, they were going to see Koji and Yuki again, and have the opportunity to explore Tokyo.

“Preparing for take off,” came the flight attendant's voice, and Louise's grin grew wider.

“We're going to Japan!” she cheered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're finally going to Japan!  
> In regards to Louise enjoying writing, I wanted to give her something that was a little bit different. I think it will end up being very good for her.  
> What did you think? I'd love to know your thoughts.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Belchers are in Japan! This is another LONG one, so please enjoy.
> 
> Quick side note; there may be a delay in getting the last two chapters out, as my ancient, Flinstone laptop is getting a much needed upgrade. I hope you can bear with me on this.

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 14

“Finally!” Bob flopped face-first onto the hotel bed, his eyes closed. “Never again,” he moaned. “Never, ever again.”

“Cool, that means we get to live here,” came Louise's voice from somewhere to his right.

“No, Louise,” he muttered, not having the strength to do anything else. Linda flopped down next to him.

“Nobody talk,” she whined, “I need sleep.”

“We all do,” said Bob. “Kids, go to sleep.” Gene and Tina, exhausted from the flight, gladly climbed into the other double bed, but Louise was standing by the window.

“I can see the Shibuya crossing!” she said, palms pressed against the glass. “It's so cool!”

“Louise. Sleep. Now,” was all Bob said, his face still buried in the mattress.

“Dad, there's so much to do!”

“We are not leaving this room until we've all had a proper sleep,” said Bob, in a tone that indicated there was to be no negotiation, and Louise gave up, and climbed into the bed with her brother and sister, positioning herself in the middle.

Bob and Linda were utterly exhausted; they'd all slept on the plane, but they'd gotten lost on the way to their hotel and now, jet lag was taking its toll. Bob didn't even know what time or day it was.

He was awakened the following day several hours earlier than he would have liked by Louise opening the curtains, and the early morning sunlight poured in.

“Come on, wake up!” she yelled. “We've only got four days; let's make the most of them!” She went over to the parents' bed and began bouncing her arms on it. Bob sat up, rubbing his eyes. Louise was already dressed and ready to go. “Come on, come on, come on!” she clapped her hands, going over to shake her siblings awake.

“Alright, we're up,” said Bob, standing up and stretching.

“Hurry up; we have stuff to do!” Louise called impatiently.

“Don't worry, we've got plenty of time,” said Linda, noticing the clock; not even 8am. “We're gonna have breakfast first.”

“We don't have time for breakfast!” Louise shrieked, dragging Tina out of bed and pushing her towards the bathroom.

“We are not walking around Tokyo on empty stomachs, Miss Missy.”

“Okay, fine, whatever, but let's make it quick!”

When they were all dressed and ready to go, they made their way down to the hotel restaurant.

“So, Louise, where are we going today?” Bob asked.

“Harajuku,” she replied; a place she'd always wanted to see. She had her Kuchi Kopi bag with her map, her list, their tickets, and her Japanese phrasebook.

* * *

Linda and Gene found their jaws agape when they first saw the colourful district that was Harajuku.

“Oh, my God!” cried Gene, clutching his head, eyes wide. Even Louise was enjoying it. She had no interest in the fashion, but she just couldn't pass up the chance to go shopping in a real Japanese centre. Anime toys, DVDs', Kuchi Kopi merchandise; she was practically buzzing with excitement. Plus, Koji and Yuki liked it here.

“Where shall we go first?” asked Linda, who had already taken out the video camera Teddy had lent them, and was filming, pausing to admire two brightly dressed teen girls. “Ooh, such pretty clothes, I love them!”

“Just start walking,” Louise marched ahead, disappearing into a little shop.

They spent the morning shopping, loving every second of it. Louise, Gene, and Tina were in a toy shop, the largest in the district. Louise had found a Kuchi Kopi section, which meant that no one could get her to leave for at least another hour, so Gene and Tina went to explore the rest of the place.

Gene became aware that Tina was no longer with him, and he turned to find her staring up at a life-size statue of an anime boy, her mouth hanging open.

“Tina?” he asked.

“Do – do you think this is for sale?” she asked, breathlessly, her eyes not leaving the statue's face.

“Uh, no,” he said slowly, and Tina looked disappointed.

“Oh... But he's beautiful.”

“I know, T,” he placed his hand on her shoulder, understandingly. “But I don't think this will fit in our suitcase.”

A few hours later, the five of them laden down with bags, they decided to stop for lunch.

“Great, follow me; we got reservations!” Louise led the way once again, holding her map.

They arrived outside a big building which read “Kawaii Monster Cafe,” and Louise went inside, presenting to the hostess her reservation printout, and they headed inside.

The only way Louise could describe the place was an assault on the eyes. A ultra-kawaii, hyperactive assault on the eyes. But in a good way. The centre of the restaurant was taken up by a large carousel shaped like a giant cake, with large candies and animals decorating it. The ceiling was covered in silver tiles so it looked like a giant disco ball, and multi-coloured lights were flashing.

They were led over to the “Mushroom Disco” section and seated in a circular, squashy booth of vivid purple and green, with a psychedelic, brightly coloured mushroom towering over them, providing light.

“This is so cool!” Gene screamed, bouncing on his chair, hardly able to believe what he was seeing.

“It really is,” said Linda, picking up the order tablet, encased in a cream-cake cover. “Ooh, Bobby, they have alcohol!”

“They only serve that at night,” Louise told her.

“Oh, okay. Oh, never mind; I wanna try one of these experiment drinks!” Linda was excited again.

“Actually, I do, too,” Bob was examining the menu; the non-alcoholic experiment drink was served with two test tubes of coloured liquid to be added. It looked kinda fun.

“We'll all get some, now let's eat!” Louise declared.

It was definitely the most fun restaurant they had ever been to, and the food was just as crazy as the atmosphere. Linda had the “Candy Salad,” which was exactly what it said on the tin. Bob had the Makizushi sushi rolls, which were filled with rice and cucumber, and was delicious.

Louise and Tina had the “Rainbow Pasta,” multi-coloured pasta served on an artists' palette, with several sides of various coloured sauces, and Gene had the Chocolate Chicken, a roasted chicken breast, with a generous ladling of chocolate sauce, accompanied by a bar of milk chocolate.

Louise also ordered a chocolate chicken for herself; there was no way she was going to leave without trying it. Her two favourite foods combined? She couldn't pass it up.

“Alright, everyone, smile!” called Linda, holding the digital camera (which Teddy had also lent them) up to take a selfie, and they all leaned in, grinning widely.

For dessert, they ordered the “Colourful Poison Parfait Extreme,” a mixture of fruit, ice cream, frosting, cookies, and cream. It was so big that the five of them couldn't finish it, and so they opted to have the Experiment Drinks. They had to quickly pour the two vials of liquid into the large test tube, where it quickly fizzed up, and they had to lean over and catch the drink.

It was honestly the best restaurant experience they'd ever had, and that was why Louise had allowed Linda to take photos of them in front of the cake carousel; she didn't want to forget this.

* * *

They continued to shop after lunch, and after a while, Louise sat down on one of the benches.

“Wait, hang on; we're stopping!” called Linda, taking a seat next to her youngest.

“What's the matter?” said Bob, wiping his slightly sweaty brow. Needing the rest, he gratefully sat down.

“You're the only one with the problem,” said Louise, “I'm just taking everything in.”

“Do you want me to run back to the hotel and get your crutches?” asked Linda.

“What? What would I need crutches for?”

“Alright; we'll all have a little rest.”

While they sat, they chatted happily, about what they loved so far, what they were looking forward to seeing and doing, and when Louise was ready, they resumed their shopping. “This is really amazing,” said Linda, gazing around her. “It's beautiful; I see why you've always wanted to come here.”

“It is,” he agreed, as they slowly walked through the beautifully decorated streets, keeping one eye on their excited kids. “Honestly, I never thought I'd get to come here.”

“I think we would have, at some time in the future,” said Linda thoughtfully. “Oh, we should do this more often, if we can. Next time; Hawaii!”

“You wanna go to Hawaii?”

“Yeah! Leis, grass skirts, alcohol served in coconuts; it's perfect.” Bob hummed in response, and Linda continued to film everything. “Ooh, Bobby, when we get back, we can get this put onto a DVD! That way, we can watch it whenever we want!”

“That's a good idea, Lin.” He paused to take a photo of the street, littered with people, shops, stalls, and décor. He didn't consider himself a photographer, but he also wanted memories.

“Bobby, look!” Linda grabbed his arm, and Bob turned to see Louise at a little stall, surrounded by three Japanese ladies, who were wrapping a beautiful red kimono patterned with pink flowers around her. Louise was smiling, actually smiling, as she watched them weave around her. “Oh, that's adorable!” Linda aimed the video camera at them.

“I want one, I want one!” Gene screamed, leaping over to where they were. As if out of nowhere, three more Japanese ladies popped up, and held up a traditional male outfit, plain black, but Gene shook his head, and pointed to the white one, dotted with cherry red blossoms.

“Hey, I want in on that,” Tina joined her siblings, and was soon being wrapped in her own kimono; a beautiful pale pink, with blue flowers.

“Aw, they look so cute. Hey, kids, smile!” Linda called, waving at them, and they looked over at her. They obediently smiled for the camera.

“Such beautiful eyes,” one of the ladies stroked Gene's face. “Very _Kireina!”_

“Thank you,” Gene beamed, batting his eyes.

“Yes, you all have such very beautiful eyes,” said another lady, tying the sash at Louise's waist. “Like little pools of melting chocolate.”

“Arigatōgozaimashita,” said Louise, and the lady patted her on the head.

As they walked down the street proudly in their kimonos, they couldn't stop smiling. Loads of passersby, locals and tourists alike, would catch their eye and grin at them. Their shiny, black hair, big brown eyes, ad olive skin tone made quite an impression on a number of people. Although she was unaware of it, Louise was the recipient of most of the stares; due to her very thin frame, she could almost pass for an anime character, which was what most of the Japanese population loved.

“Whew!” Bob collapsed on the hotel bed yet again. “I'm exhausted!”

“I can't believe how much stuff we got,” Linda eyed the bags littering the room.

“It's great!” Louise was sat cross-legged on the other bed, the contents of her bags scattered in front of her. She had almost completely cleaned out the Kuchi Kopi section of the toy shop; notepads, pens, books, clothing, and pretty much one of everything they had.

Tina and Gene, even with their limited knowledge of anime and Japanese culture, had managed to find things they liked. Tina had found a photobook of a Japanese boy band she did not know, but she liked it enough to buy it, and she'd also found a small figurine of an anime boy so adorable that she couldn't stop staring at him.

Gene, with his preferation of larger, buxom ladies, had a harder time choosing. He'd managed to find some amazing, brightly coloured shirts with crazy patterns. He also bought some Japanese candy; Pocky, Moko Moko toilet candy, and something called Crayon Shin-Chan Butt Pudding. He, of course, had to purchase a large, patterned hand fan, and some wooden Geta sandals.

“I hope we can fit all this into the suitcases,” said Bob, who had kind of went a little bit crazy with his purchases. He was going to use that Hawk cosplay; of course he was. And the Japanese whisky. And the sakura scented candle.

“If we can't, we'll just have to live here,” Louise heaved a great, sarcastic sigh.

“We're not living here, Louise.”

“Why not? I have all the stuff I need with me.”

“We can't live here; we have the restaurant, school; we don't even speak Japanese.”

“All that can be easily fixed,” Louise placed her new Kuchi Kopi stationery inside her new Kuchi Kopi pencil case.

“We just can't do it. Oh, God, I still can't believe how much we must have spent today,” Bob let out a little whimper.

“It was our only shopping today; we had to make the most of it,” said Louise simply.

* * *

The following day, they were exploring the beautiful Rikugien Garden, one of the major metropolitan parks in Tokyo. It was a beautiful place, with a lake, beautiful trees, and traditional bridges and walkways. It was peaceful, despite the tourists walking around.

Louise had chosen this particular one because a major part of “Hawk and Chick vs Basan” had been filmed there.

“This is it, Dad,” Louise turned in the middle of the park and faced her father. “This is the exact spot where Hawk and Chick had their final showdown with Basan.”

“Oh, my God, I can't believe we're here!” Bob cried, looking around him in wonderment.

Linda chuckled at their fangirling, and headed off to explore the rest of the park with Gene and Tina.

“Get that camera out,” Louise ordered, and Bob did so.

“Excuse me, sir? Would you mind taking a picture of us?” he held out the camera to a tourist, who smiled and nodded.

Bob and Louise stepped back a little bit, before striking a classic Hawk and Chick pose, the both of them grinning widely.

While Bob and Louise were releasing their inner nerds, Linda, Gene and Tina wandered around the park. The size and greenery were something to be admired. Linda was again filming, aiming the camera at her kids walking around.

“Turn around and smile, babies!” she called, managing to zoom in.

“This place is really nice,” said Tina.

“Say it to the camera; we're making memories!” Linda said, and Tina repeated herself, looking awkward on camera.

Gene took off toward the bridge, over which was a little sitting area and photo opportunity made up to look like a Japanese temple. Linda was close behind, and Tina made to follow when a hand tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to see a Japanese boy, about her age, looking at her shyly.

“Moe!” he said, looking in awe of her. “Moe!”

“Uuhhh...” Tina looked around for Louise, but Bob was helping her to climb on the rock formation next to the lake. The teen was very beautiful, with deep brown eyes, and soft brown hair flopping over his head. He smiled shyly at her, and her heart almost stopped. It was the most dazzling smile she had ever seen; enough to put Jimmy Jr. to shame. She was sorely tempted to sneak a quick peek at his butt; to see if he had the full package. “Uhh, I don't speak Japanese,” she said, and he looked confused.

“Moe. Anata wa moe! Kireina!” Tina had heard that last word before, but she still didn't know what he meant, and she shook her head again. The boy reached into his pocket, and pulled out his phone, quickly speaking into it. He pressed a button, and a robotic voice said; _“you are very cute and beautiful.”_ Tina stared up at him, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.

“You think I'm -?” but the boy gestured her to lean into and speak into the phone. “You think I'm beautiful?” she repeated. The boy nodded, his grin widening, before speaking into his phone.

“ _Yes, you are so very beautiful. You have beautiful eyes and smile.”_

“I do?” Tina's blush deepened. She smiled up at him, her heart fluttering. “My name is Tina. What's your name?”

“ _Kiyoshi.”_

“Kiyoshi,” she repeated. “Kiyoshi; I like that,” and they both smiled at each other.

“ _May I hold your hand?”_ came the phone voice, and Tina nodded. Kiyoshi tenderly took her hand, and they began to walk through the park.

Linda and Gene were taking selfies together, having the time of their lives.

“Wait, wait, wait; where's Tina?”

“I don't know; maybe she's with Dad and Louise?”

They began to walk back through the park, when they spotted Tina on one of the benches, holding hands with a Japanese boy. As they approached, they saw the boy say something into his phone, before Tina listened to it, and blushed.

“Tina, there you are!” Tina looked up at her mother, her cheeks still faintly red.

“Mom! Oh, this is Kiyoshi,” they both stood up, and faced Linda, who was beaming.

“Aw, that's adorable! Aw, two lil' lovebirds!” Linda reached forward and hugged Kiyoshi, who looked very embarrassed. “Okay, we'll leave you two to your little date. Come on, Gene!”

* * *

They joined up for a light lunch a few hours later, Kiyoshi having gone on his way, but not before he gave his email and social media to Tina.

After lunch, they spent the evening in a traditional Japanese shrine, Sensō-ji. Louise had chosen this one because a very important, dramatic scene in “Hawk and Chick vs Ogama” had taken place there; the Ogama had struck Hawk, sending him flying across the room, and little Yuki had thought he was dead. She'd fallen to her knees, begging for her papa to wake up. That was the first time Louise had ever felt a twinge of sadness for someone else, and she remembered looking up at her own dad, picturing him in Hawk's place. The then five-year-old hoped that it would never happen to her daddy.

They had to remove their shoes before entering, and upon learning that, Bob and Linda had expected to turn away and do something else, but Louise was wearing socks. Of course, she had known about it, and had stocked up on socks ahead of time, and so they went inside.

“Just do what we do,” Louise said to Linda, and her siblings, referring to herself and Bob; she would be so embarrassed if they did something wrong, and they all had to leave.

They walked up to the fountain and washed their hands, before going into the offering hall, where the Kami was located. The Kami, a statue of Ebisu, the God of fortune, stood in the centre of the hall.

Linda, Gene, and Tina watched, intrigued, as Bob and Louise each dropped a coin into the offering box, before bowing twice. They clapped their hands twice, bowed once again, and remained silent for a moment, before moving away. “Go on, then,” Louise gestured to the shrine.

Once they had done so, they moved on to the rest of the sacred building.

They examined the Omikuji; fortune-telling strips of paper tied neatly onto wooden poles, and they checked out the Ema, which were prayer tablets, hand-carved onto small pieces of wood. They didn't write any of their own, but they enjoyed reading the few that were written in English.

After that, they headed back to the city for an early dinner at Ninja Shinjuku, a more traditional restaurant. As soon as they entered, they were greeted with a small gift shop, filled with ninja-themed goodies. They didn't have much time to browse, for the robot, dressed all in black, greeted them, making them jump, and a ninja appeared from behind the wall to take them to their seats.

They were led downstairs, to the underground ninja cave, where they were shown to their table.

“Wow, this place looks so cool!” Tina looked around in awe. The place had rocks all over the walls, and low lighting made it look mysterious.

The menu was a scroll, which had to be unrolled to see what was available.

“Oh, my God, I always knew I was born to be a King's messenger!” Gene kept furling and unfurling the scroll.

“Gene, let us order,” said Bob, glancing at the menu.

“Make sure you order from the entertainment course,” Louise demanded.

“What? How come?” asked Linda.

“You'll see,” was all her daughter said.

“Oh, my God, I _need_ to try this Omi beef!” Bob was practically drooling at the mouth; they didn't have Kobe beef, but Omi was the next best thing, and it was something he'd always wanted to taste.

“I'm gonna have the.. 'Super-hot chili shrimp curry with burning fort'” read Louise, before looking up at her siblings. “What about you guys?”

“Uhhhh, I'm not feeling too adventurous right now,” said Tina. “I'll just go for the.. 'fried chicken hiding in earth,'” she decided.

“Wait, in earth? Like, you have to dig for it? I want some of that!” Gene cried, and Louise sighed.

“Come all the way to Tokyo to have fried chicken. Really, T?”

“Ooh, the paella looks nice,” Linda saved Tina from having to answer.

Their food was served by staff dressed as ninjas, moving expertly in the dark room. With bandanas covering their mouths and noses, a waiter laid a tray down on the table.

“This is the chili shrimp fort,” he said. Louise reached forward to take it, but he raised his hand, gesturing for them to watch. He lit a match and placed it at the end of the tray, before stepping back. Within moments, the food had burst into flame, making them all jump, and Louise grinned in delight. When the fire had died down, he placed the tray in front of her, and then placed a potted plant each on Gene and Tina's plates.

“That's some funny looking chicken,” Gene whispered loudly. The pots were full of soil, and had a small, green, leafy plant blooming from it.

“Turn it upside down,” the waiter told them. They did so, and as if out of nowhere, fried chicken appeared. Gene and Tina were actually speechless.

Louise decided she liked this restaurant better than the Kawaii Monster Cafe; this place had fire. She even enjoyed the magic tricks.

For dessert, they split what was called an “Heirloom Bonsai of magical sweets,” a mixture of ice cream 'soil,' pastry 'branches,' and a sponge cake base. It even came with bonsai scissors to clip the branches.

After dessert, they watched with amazement the magic show, before managing to heave themselves off their chairs and make their way back upstairs.

Before they did so, however, Louise insisted that they dress up in the ninja costumes provided.

“Come on! When will we ever get to do this again?” she cried. They could see her point, and so they dressed up, even Bob and Linda, and posed dramatically against the misty backdrop provided for them.

They had their photos taken, and then they left on a high.

They soon saw why Louise had made them come there so early; it was dark when they stepped outside. Bob checked his watch; they'd been in the restaurant for over three hours.

“Oh, my God, that was the best beef I've ever had,” Bob rubbed his stomach appreciatively, back in the hotel room. “Seriously, nothing can compare to that, _nothing._ ”

“Dad, remind me again why we don't serve Japanese food,” Louise was lying on her back on the bed, eyes closed.

“Because we're not a Japanese restaurant; we're a burger restaurant.”

“Why? It'd be so much better if we did Japanese food; we could wear ninja costumes, and have Hawk and Chick movies playing 24/7.”

“Louise, if you want to do all that, you gotta cough up the money.”

“We don't need money; just buy Japanese food.”

“I'll think about it,” Bob moaned, needing sleep. That was good enough for Louise.

* * *

The following day had them all full of excitement, for that day was the premiere.

“Oh, I can't believe we're gonna go to real life movie premiere!” Linda was dancing about the hotel room.

“It's not until tonight; what are we going to do until then?” asked Tina.

“We're going to Tokyo Tower!” Louise informed them, carefully dropping to her knees to reach under the bed for her Kuchi Kopi bag. She'd chosen the Tower because that was where Koji and Yuki held a lot of interviews whenever they made a new movie, and because their famous 1973 photoshoot was done there.

“Ooh, goin' up in a tower; I love it!” Linda was hanging up the outfits they were going to wear that evening, singing loudly. Gene was bouncing with excitement, stopping to catch himself in front of the mirror, and practising his wave.

“I cannot wait to be photographed; this is what I was meant to do in my life!”

“We'll all get photos on the red carpet,” Bob assured them, “some just us, and if we can, some with Koji and Yuki, how does that sound, Louise? Louise?” Louise was still on her knees by the bed.

“Sounds good to me,” she replied. Placing her hands on the floor, she put one foot on the ground, ignoring the sharp pain coursing through her lower back, and she slowly stood.

They had a very enjoyable morning at Tokyo Tower; the views were incredible. Louise had booked the tour, and they were currently on the observatory, listening to their guide while sipping their complimentary drinks. Louise, Gene, and Tina were looking out one of the many windows, before they headed to the top deck.

When they stepped into the room, it was quite literally breathtaking; the room appeared to be made out of diamonds, the ceiling was clear and jagged, and floor-to-ceiling windows lined the entire deck.

“This is incredible!” Bob gasped.

When the tour was over, they got to wander freely about the deck. Louise liked the glass floor. Tina didn't.

“Come on, everybody!” Linda got out the video camera, “everyone on the glass floor, and put your feet in!”

“Uhhhh...”

“Tina, it's not going to break,” Bob assured her, taking her hand. They gathered together on the glass portion of the floor, arranging their feet in a circle.

“Yeah, 'cause no one has ever done this before,” Louise said under her breath. But, she allowed her mother to film them, and also dutifully posed for a photo in front of one of the windows.

They lunched in the Tokyo Tower cafe, which was pretty uneventful, until Gene ate a large spoonful of wasabi thinking it was guacamole. His screams could be heard for miles.

As they still had a few hours to spare, they explored the local area.

They were walking past Shiba Park, when Gene stopped.

“Wait, I hear music!” he cried, running toward the sound.

“Gene!” Bob adjusted Louise on his back and trudged after his son.

There was a group of people in the middle of the park, playing the drums, and a crowd had gathered to watch. Gene manoeuvred his way to the front, watching with glee. His family joined him, and they watched the talented drummers, as they stepped in time with the beat, bopping their heads. Louise didn't get down from her spot on her dad's back; why would she? She had the best view.

Linda beamed at Gene as he began to tap his feet, clap his hands. Before he knew it, he was dancing, twirling out in front of the crowd, hips swaying, arms waving. Eyes closed, spinning around, Gene did not realise that the drummers were watching him, big smiles on their faces. Soon, Gene had attracted a little crowd of his own, and the onlookers were taking pictures and videos, chattering happily.

When the song ended, Gene took a deep bow, as audience and drummers alike applauded him. One of the drummers approached him and spoke in Japanese. Gene only politely shook his head, indicating that he didn't speak the language. She handed him her sticks and pointed to her drum.

“Oh, okay,” Gene didn't need any persuasion, and took his place behind the drum. Linda aimed the camera at him. “I've never played the drums before. I don't even know if I can.” The drummers began their next song, he listened for a few beats, before joining in. Naturally, he picked it up almost immediately.

Bob and Linda were beaming with pride, watching their son proudly as he bopped on the spot, keeping in time.

“Aw, this is amazing!” Linda swept the camera around to the crowd of appreciative onlookers, “everyone cheering on my Genie Beanie!”

“I love this, I love this!” Gene screamed, raising his arms in the air, before beating out a flourish on his drums.

When the song was over, Gene raised his sticks once again, grinning, lapping up the applause.

“Oh, Gene, that was perfect!” Linda wrapped him up in a hug, kissing him on the cheek several times. “Oh, you're so talented!”

“Thank you, thank you,” he stepped back, twirling his hands. The lady who had let him play approached him once again, and bowed to him, and he bowed back.

“Wonderful, wonderful!” she praised, patting his head.

* * *

They arrived back at the hotel in the early afternoon, planning on getting some rest before the premiere.

“Mr Belcher? Mr Belcher?” the receptionist beckoned them over. “You have a message, and your car is waiting,” she said, handing Bob a sheet of paper.

“Our car?” Bob looked confused, as did the rest of his family.

“What does the note say?” said Linda.

“It's from Koji,” he told his family.

“What does it say? Read it, read it!” Louise tugged on his arm.

“It says that he's arranged for us to have a complimentary spa afternoon, so we can get ready in style.”

“Oh, my God!” Linda and Gene cried in unison. Tina gave a whispered _'yes!'_ but Louise didn't look too impressed.

“Do we.. all have to go?”

“Well, we're not leaving you here alone,” said Bob. “You don't have to have any treatments,” he told her, and Louise breathed a sigh of relief.

Half an hour later, they were at the spa resort, where they were basically allowed free reign over the place. It was a long, low building, with wooden beams, and soft lighting. Linda could see a hot tub and whirlpool in the courtyard. None of them had packed bathing suits, and she wondered if she could skinny dip.

“Are you sure we can have anything we want?” Bob asked the receptionist.

“Oh, yes,” she smiled. “It's all compliments of Mr Kojima.”

“Okay, thanks. Alright, everyone,” he turned to his family. “Don't go crazy here; Koji's paying for this. He didn't have to, so let's not take advantage of him.”

“Dad, Koji must be, like, a billionaire,” Louise reasoned, looking at treatments offered in the leaflet. None of them seemed very appealing.

“Still, it's not polite to go mad,” said Bob.

In the end, they all ended up having a pretty good time, even Louise. She opted for a shoulder massage; she remembered liking the one she had during her “independent study” time.

Linda and Gene, never ones to do anything by halves, were lying on their backs, slices of cucumber over their eyes, and their faces slathered in cream.

Tina was in the middle of a manicure, while Bob got a deep tissue massage, which left him feeling wonderfully limber and awake.

“This is the life we should be leading,” Gene, fresh-faced and feeling silky smooth, settled into his chair for a mani-pedi. “I'm already used to this.”

“Oh, me too; it's fabulous!” called Linda from the salon chair, where her hair was being thoroughly washed.

A few hours later, the five of them left the spa, all pampered and feeling like a million dollars, and returned to their hotel to get ready for the premiere. “I'm so excited!” Linda cried as she sat down in front of the mirror to do her makeup. Her hair was curled and piled high on top of her head, with a few curls falling down and framing her face. “I can't wait to see it!”

“I can't wait to walk the red carpet!” Gene emerged from the bathroom, his hair fluffy and bouncy, tying the sash around his kimono.

Finishing up her mascara, Linda turned to her husband.

“Aw, you look so cute; Bobby; where'd you get the tux?”

“A thrift store,” Bob self consciously smoothed down the jacket.

“Good find,” Linda turned back to the mirror, applying her pink lipstick to match her new dress; a hot pink halter neck, with black heels. “Tina, sweetie, are you almost ready?” Tina, who had quickly run into the bathroom to get changed, emerged. She was wearing a bright purple sleeveless dress that fell to just above her knees. Her hair had been washed and styled, as well, and now hung in loose, wavy curls, which gave her already thick hair some volume.

“I'm almost done,” she walked over to the bed and began searching for her shoes, while Louise disappeared into the bathroom. “Kiyoshi told me he's going to be there; I hope I get to see him.”

“Kiyoshi?” asked Bob.

“He's a boy Tina met yesterday,” Linda told him, and Bob nodded. “How are you gonna keep in contact with him?” she asked, affixing her hair with some more hairspray.

“He gave me his email, and he's added me on social media,” said Tina, pulling on her silver ballet flats.

“Dad, where are the sandals I bought the other day? I can't find them,” Gene was rifling through one of the many bags.

“I don't know. Won't they be uncomfortable?”

“They're sandals; no sandal has ever been uncomfortable!” Gene declared. “Besides, if I don't wear them, then no one will see my pedicure,” he waggled his bare toes, painted white, and decorated with minuscule red sakura blossoms.

“Alright, fair enough,” Bob examined himself in the mirror behind Linda. His hair had been smoothed down and combed, and the facial he'd had made him look – dare he think it? - a little bit younger.

Finally, Louise came out from the bathroom, in the new dress Linda had bought for her. It was red satin, with short sleeves, a Peter Pan collar, and a knee-length skirt. She'd paired it with black tights and shoes, and the black leather jacket Tim and Charlie had given her. Her hair remained in their usual pigtails, along with her bunny ears. She'd allowed the salon lady to paint her nails red, but that was as far as she went.

“Aw, look at my beautiful family!” Linda cried, clasping her hands together as Gene twirled and posed.

“So, Louise, how are we getting there?” asked Bob.

“Uh, taxi? It's in Shinjuku.”

“Great, let's get going!” Linda was practically ushering them to the door.

When they left the hotel, there was a white stretch limo parked out front, with the driver standing next to it.

“Are you the Belchers?” he asked, and they nodded. He opened the back door and gestured for them to get in.

“Wow, a limo!” Linda cried. There was another note on the back seat.

“'Our special guests must arrive in style. Koji',” Bob read, quickly folding the note so no one would see him tearing up. “Wow; alright, everyone get in!”

“Yeah!” Gene dove head first into the car, with the others climbing in after him.

“I can't believe we're in a limo, and going to a movie premiere,” said Tina, as the car started up.

“By the way, you're all welcome,” came Louise's voice, sitting at the end, behind the driver. “If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't be here. This is all down to me; you're welcome, you're welcome.”

“I mean, Koji might still have invited us,” Bob reasoned, leaning forward to examine the drinks on display in the minibar opposite him.

“No, no; if it weren't for me, we'd never have met. I'm the one who recognised him. I enriched all our lives.”

“Thank you, Louise,” said Bob, as Gene dropped to his knees to fiddle with the radio, blasting out some pop music.

“Bobby, do they have any wine?”

“I don't see any. I'm sure they'll have some inside the theatre.”

“It'll be nice to have a pre-drink.” Bob leaned back, looking around the plush limo. This was nice; already, he could feel himself getting used to this lifestyle. He really needed to get that whole “celebrity chef” thing underway. Not for the travel and lifestyle, although that was a bonus, but to share his work with the world.

“We gotta remember to thank Koji and Yuki for doing this for us,” he said.

“Yeah; this was real nice of 'em,” Linda agreed, looking out the tinted window.

“Look! We're here!” Louise cried; they all looked out the windows to see a huge crowd of people, and the flashing of many cameras.

“Oh, my God, oh, my God! How does my hair look, Bobby? Did you take some breath mints?”

“Your hair looks fine, Lin, and, yes, I took a breath mint.” Bob and Gene began scooting up on the seat as the door was opened. “Alright; here we go.”

They stepped out into the floodlights, immediately facing the throng of excited Hawk and Chick fans, reporters, and celebrities. Directly in front of them was the red carpet, leading up to the cinema. The building, which resembled a miniature skyscraper, had a large statue of the head and shoulders of Godzilla resting on the roof, its yellow eyes surveying everyone.

The crowd were behind the velvet ropes, some holding cameras, others holding photos to be signed, and others holding flowers. Although they were applauding and waving, they were silent.

“Why is everything so quiet?” whispered Tina, feeling nervous with everyone's eyes on them.

“This is how they do it in Japan,” said Louise.

“I can see Koji and Yuki,” Bob nodded toward the stars, who were halfway up the red carpet, which was dotted with celebrities, talking to a reporter. “Do we.. just walk up to them?”

“We're taking our time here,” Linda insisted, and she stepped forward, smiling at the crowd. They followed her, and slowly made their way up the red carpet.

Bob and Tina felt awkward waving, like it was wrong; nobody knew who they were, and they weren't the reason the crowd had showed up. Bob just smiled politely, while Tina scoured the onlookers for Kiyoshi.

On the other hand, Linda and Gene were in their element. Linda beamed and waved to everyone, while Gene posed in his kimono, looking left and right. He was right; the camera did love him, as photographers swarmed over.

Louise couldn't help but smile. She was in Japan, walking the red carpet, and about to see a brand new Hawk and Chick on the big screen, with the actors themselves; what more could she ask for?

A young female reporter approached Bob and Linda.

“Good evening; I'm Aya Saito for NHK World Japan. What is your name?”

“Uh, I'm Bob Belcher; this is my wife, Linda,” Linda moved in close next to Bob, and began waving frantically at the camera. “And these are our kids; Tina, Gene, and Louise,” he pointed them out.

“And you are from America?”

“Yes; New Jersey, a town called Seymour's Bay.”

“And did you travel here for the premiere?”

“Yes, we did.”

“We're special guests of Koji,” said Louise, and the camera focused on her.

“How did you and Mr Kojima meet?”

“He came to our town to see Yuki, and we met, and became friends.”

“Ah, I see.”

They moved on down the carpet, Linda and Gene smiling and waving all the way, before approaching Koji and Yuki. The two stars spotted the family and beamed widely.

“Ah, Belchers! Good to see you!” Koji swept Bob up in a hug, followed by Linda, then the kids. Louise did not hug back, but she didn't wriggle away. “So glad you came. How are you liking Tokyo?”

“It's amazing! We're going to live here now,” Louise told him.

“Oh, really?” Koji smiled down at her, looking very sharp in his custom made tux with flecks of gold that made it appear to shine.

“No, we're not,” Bob clarified.

“Well, we're glad you made it,” said Yuki, looking exquisite in a floor-length silver gown, with her hair in a neat bun. “Do you want to get some photos?”

“Of course we do!” Linda cried, a little louder than she expected. “Gosh, you look so pretty, Yuki! Where's the baby?”

“He's with the sitter, and thank you,” Yuki smiled, her eyes glowing. “Come on, face the camera here.” They got into formation, with Koji and Yuki flanking the Belchers', and grinned widely. They took a few more, switching up positions, before getting individual photos; first with both Koji and Yuki, and then one with each.

“Thanks so much for this,” said Bob through his smile, as he posed with Koji.

“Ah, it is no problem, Bob. I am happy to do it.”

“I mean, for Louise. You have no idea what this means to her,” he glanced out of the corner of his eye, where Louise was posing with Yuki. “You've given her probably the happiest time of her life; so thank you.”

“It is nothing, really. I know she has not had an easy time,” Koji turned to face Bob. “You and Louise have given me the happiest moment of my life; reuniting with my precious Yuki, so it is I who must thank you.” Koji pulled Bob into another hug, before beckoning Louise and Yuki over.

After they were done with the photos, Louise stepped away slightly, blinking away the bright lights, taking a moment to savour where she was. In Tokyo. On the red carpet. With Hawk and Chick. She honestly wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

She looked around her, observing the celebrities, recognising a fair few, when her jaw dropped. Because standing just a little bit further away from her was Kiriko Sparkle Sparkle, only _the_ most famous and best pop star in Japan. For a moment, Louise couldn't stop staring; it was _actually_ Kiriko, in the flesh!

Kiriko Sparkle Sparkle was Louise all-time favourite Japanese singer, but secretly. Not even her dad knew about this. Not that she was _embarrassed_ , but none of them would get it, not even Bob. Kiriko specialised in the 'kawaii,' or 'cute' image; with big doe eyes, frills, lace, knee socks, and sweet poses. But she also dabbled in the weird and grotesque, with things like puking up CGI eyeballs, actors with gaping, teeth-laden mouths for heads, and her dancing on giant, flying fish, and that was why Louise liked her. That, and she genuinely made good music.

More than slightly star-struck, Louise walked over to Kiriko, who was chatting to a reporter. For a moment, she just stared up at this tiny young woman, who seemed so larger than life in her videos. She couldn't believe it was really her.

Kiriko, having finished speaking, caught Louise looking at her and smiled.

“Watashi wa.. dai... uh, fandesu!” Louise managed to stutter, almost breathless at seeing Kiriko up front, telling the star what a big fan she was. The singer was wearing a dress which consisted of a pale pink bodice with pastel blue vertical stripes, a stiff pink skirt decorated with brightly coloured pom-poms of different sizes. The platform shoes made her look taller, and the oversized lilac bow sat neatly on top of her usual curly, blond wig.

“Arigatōgozaimashita,” said Kiriko, bowing, and Louise's smile grew wider as she bowed back. She desperately wished she knew more Japanese, or that Kiriko could speak English.

“I love all your songs,” she said, unable to help herself, and the lady next to Kiriko began whispering into her ear. “ _Crazy Party Night_ is my favourite, and I like _Invader Invader.”_

Kiriko thanked her again after the lady had translated for her.

“Would you like to take picture?” asked the translator, gesturing to the cameras.

“Would I?!” Louise stood next to Kiriko, grinning widely. Yep, this truly was the best moment of her life. “I didn't know you like ' _Hawk and Chick.'_ ” she said, after their photo had been taken. Kiriko answered her in Japanese, and the lady translated.

“Yes, I would see them as a girl, I became big fan. I like how creative they are; especially the way they kill the monsters.”

“Me, too! Like when they killed Harionago! So good!” Louise remembered the way Hawk and Chick sliced each strand of her thorn-tipped hair off, before cutting her head off clean. “You should do that in your next video; killing Harionago, or something like that.”

“That is a good idea,” the translator said.

“Louise!” the girl turned to find that her family were now at the entrance to the theatre. “We're going inside now!” called Linda.

“Sayonara!” Louise waved at Kiriko, before heading back to her family.

“Who was that you were talking to?” asked Linda, as they went inside.

“Kiriko Sparkle Sparkle,” said Louise casually. They looked confused, but Yuki smiled.

“Oh, I didn't know you were a fan of hers!”

“Yeah, little bit,” she shrugged her shoulders, ignoring the questioning looks she was getting.

The lobby of the cinema was absolutely huge, with dozens of low-hanging lights, and a polished, patterned floor. The concession stand took up one entire wall, and posters for upcoming movies were displayed all around.

They went into the darkened room, and were led to the front row, where they made themselves comfortable. Louise positioned herself next to Koji, resting the large bucket of popcorn on her lap.

It was definitely the most comfortable cinema she had ever been in. Granted, she'd only been to one other theatre, but still, this was something she could get used to. The plush seats were enormous, with so much space that she and her siblings could fit into one, no problem, and with room to spare.

A smile slid over her face as the opening credits appeared on the screen.

* * *

“That was amazing!” Louise cried as they stood in the lobby after the film. “Hawk and Chick vs Isonade” was probably the best one yet, and sure to go down in history as Louise's favourite. The main reason for that being, Isonade looked very much like a shark. And the way they killed it? Louise would remember that for the rest of her life.

“It was the best one ever!” Bob was more excited than Louise, dancing on the spot, his eyes sparkling. “I can't believe we got to do this!”

“Oh, it was beautiful! Thank you so much, Koji,” said Linda.

“You are welcome, Linda.”

“Well, I guess it's time for us to go home and get some sleep,” said the mother, struggling to conceal a yawn.

“What?! No!” Louise looked scandalised. “There's still so much to do!”

“Like what?”

“Well, we need to catch up with Koji and Yuki!”

It was already quite late, but they stayed for more than half an hour after the film finished, chatting to the two film stars, before they had to head back to their hotel, exhausted.

As was customary in Japan, there was a merchandise table just before the lobby, which Louise had almost completely cleaned out, and now she was in bed, surrounded by the Hawk and Chick official novelisation of the film, a set of postcards, a poster, a T-shirt, Hawk and Chick figurines, a mug, among many other items. There was very little room for Gene and Tina.

“We need to do one of those at least once a week,” sighed Gene, flopping onto the end of the bed.

“It would be nice,” agreed Linda, removing her makeup. “We just need to know more celebrities.”

“Or we could just stay here,” Louise pulled the blanket up, her new stuff arranged around her. “I bet Koji and Yuki will make even more movies now.”

“Ooh, Tina, did you find your little boyfriend?” Linda paused in the middle of removing her mascara and turned to face her eldest.

“Yeah, he was in the crowd, and we spoke.”

“Are you gonna carry on speaking to him when we get home?”

“I think so; I mean, he gave me his details, so...” Tina trailed off.

“Aw, that's nice. Alright, now we all need to get some sleep.”

* * *

The following day found them in Ueno Park, another Hawk and Chick filming location. It was an extremely large public park, with a lake, thousands of cherry blossom trees, multiple museums, and a zoo.

They were in the zoo, looking at the panda bears, which were lazing around in their pen.

“Can we take one of these home?” asked Louise, holding onto the bars.

“No, Louise,” said Bob, aiming the camera at the bears.

“Why not? It can take me to school; I'll be ruling that dump in no time.”

“Your room isn't big enough,” said Linda, the video camera glued to her hand.

“Tina, switch rooms with me,” Louise quickly turned to her sister.

“But, I won't be able to display all my horses if I did that.”

“Ugh, never mind!” Louise resumed examining the bears.

“What are we doing after this?” asked Gene, his face pressed into the bars.

“Uh, there's lots of museums here. Maybe one of those?” Bob opened the leaflet. “There's the National Museum of Nature and Science, there's the Metropolitan Art Museum.”

“Dad, we're on vacation,” Louise told him. “Why would we wanna spoil our vacation, probably the only one we're ever gonna have, by going to a museum?”

“Well, it could be interesting; we could see some really cool stuff.”

“I don't like museums, unless they have stuff I can touch.”

“Do any of them have sand exhibits?” enquired Gene, placing a hand on his chin.

“Er, no,” Bob shook his head.

“No museums; we've got a whole zoo to explore,” said Louise. If she had known that the Nature Museum was hands-on, that would have changed her mind. But Bob did not see it mentioned in the leaflet, and so they remained at the zoo.

“How much time do we have?” asked Tina.

“About two hours,” Bob told her. “We have to finish packing, and our flight's at 1 o'clock, so we wanna get to the airport in good time.” A little chuckle from Louise made him look over at her. “What?”

“The fact that you actually think we're leaving; we're staying here.”

“Louise, we can't stay here,” he sighed.

“How come we got a one o'clock flight?” asked Linda. “We're not gonna get back until 5 in the morning!”

“It was either that, or 6am this morning,” shrugged Bob. He was hoping it wouldn't be as bad as the first flight; they would probably sleep better. He was now realising that would have to lug three sleeping children, along with three suitcases, through an airport in the very early hours of the morning, not to mention driving home. He was beginning to think that he'd made a mistake. Still, there was nothing he could do about it now.

They wandered around the zoo, gazing at all the animals, taking photos and videos, chattering happily.

* * *

“No, no, no!” Louise cried, clinging onto the metal railing for dear life.

“Louise, let go!” Linda grunted, her hands clasped tightly around her daughter's waist, but Louise refused to loosen her grip.

“Never!” Louise held on even tighter to the iron-wrought gate of their hotel.

“Louise, we're gonna miss our flight!” cried Bob exasperatedly. He, Gene, and Tina were standing a bit further away, watching the scene unfold. The kids looked amused, but Bob was beginning to panic.First, when they'd woken up that morning, they'd discovered she'd hidden their plane tickets. Then, she'd hidden from them, and now this.He could not afford to pay for a last-minute flight.

“Good! I wanna stay here!” Linda placed her foot on the gate and heaved, but Louise still didn't budge.

“Did you glue yourself here or something?” Linda groaned, panting with the effort. Louise's arms were threaded through the bars, her elbows locked. “Little help here?” Linda looked at her family, and they moved forward, not looking the least bit happy to be doing this. Eventually, they managed to prise her from the railings.

“You can't make me leave!” Louise wailed, making for the bars again, but was held back. “I belong here!”

“I know how you feel,” Bob told her, “but we've got to go.”

“No!” Louise dug her heels into the ground, as Bob took her hand. He didn't want to drag her, potentially causing her pain, so he picked her up. “Put me down!” Louise ordered, reaching back over his shoulder, trying to grab hold of anything in sight. “I'm staying here! I'm gonna live here! I'll write, we can Skype; just let me stay!”

“How are you gonna live here on your own with no job and no money?” asked Tina, looking back as the suitcase she was pulling toppled off its wheels and rolled onto its side.

“I have money!” Louise tried to wriggle out of Bob's grip, but he held tight. As soon as they were in the taxi, then it would be easier. Then he just had to get her into the airport. And onto the plane.

“That's for your future, Louise,” came Linda's voice from her right, where Louise couldn't see her.

“My future is here!” Louise insisted. “Dad, put me down!”

“You're coming back to America, Louise,” said Bob, and Louise slumped against him, sulking.

“Why can't we live here?”

“Because we already have a home.”

“Let's ditch that crap shack and move here!”

“No, Louise.” She slumped even further.

“Can we at least come back?”

“Maybe one day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done! Yes, I totally lived out my otaku dreams through Louise.  
> I've never been to Japan (though I would love to), and so I tried to be as respectful and truthful as I could. If there are any Japanese readers, or anyone who's been lucky enough to travel there, I hope you can forgive any errors I have made.
> 
> Of course, there are certain things which must be experienced in order to write about them properly; I'm sure going to Tokyo is one of them. The only option is for me to go there. I'm willing to do this, for you, my readers. (Kidding!)
> 
> If you were interested, Kiriko Sparkle Sparkle is based on J-pop star, Kyary Pamyu Pamyu.  
> I feel like Louise would secretly be a fan of hers. If you've seen her videos, you'll understand why.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all, I'm finally back.  
> This is it; the penultimate chapter. I can't believe it.  
> There are a few instances of very very mild language in this chapter. I don't imagine anyone would get upset by it, but I just thought I'd give you a little heads up, just in case.

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 15

Louise, now 10, sat silently on the living-room sofa, waiting for the cameraman to finish setting up. Her parents were sat either side of her, and her siblings were at either end of the sofa.

While the lighting was being adjusted, Louise looked down at her feet, clad in black Mary Janes. For the first time in almost a year, she was sockless. Her new prosthetics were great; she loved them. Although, she hadn't yet got up the courage to walk around barefoot, but maybe she would in time.

“We'll be ready in about five minutes,” said Olsen Benner, who was sat off to the side, facing the camera.

“Okay,” replied Louise, not really caring. For the first time in a long time, she felt okay. Not happy, not sad, just okay, which was different. (Bob and Linda still hid her medication in her food, but she wasn't to know that.) But, it was helping her. Helping her enough to make her agree to Olsen Benner's request to a television interview to mark the one-year anniversary of her rescue. She'd also spoken to the _Oceanside Times,_ but that was it. She didn't want a big fuss made.

“Alright, here we go,” Olsen's voice brought her back to reality. She focused on the reporter as she began to speak into the camera, before turning to Louise.

* * *

It was a bizarre week for the little girl, who found herself rather deep in thought. That particular week of February, she kept thinking: _“this time last year, everything was normal.”_ It was very strange to think that almost an entire year had passed. It felt as though it had been only a few months.

The next week, on Friday, the 21st of February, she was sat on the sofa with the rest of her family, waiting for her interview to be aired. It was to be an interview/long recap, and for some reason, her mother was insisting on taping it. Just like she insisted on keeping three fat scrapbooks full of all the news clippings she could find. Louise didn't see the point.

 _'This is it,'_ she thought. _'This is the last time I can say 'well, at least this time last year, everything was normal'.''_ It was the moment her entire life changed.

“ _It was a cool, clear, February evening,”_ began Olsen's narration, over a sweeping shot of Seymour's Bay. _“A day like any other. A nine-year-old girl named Louise Belcher, was walking through Wharf Park, on an errand for her father. But Louise was not a normal girl. She was being bullied, and her bully was a 15-year-old boy named Logan Bush.”_

The Belcher family watched silently as the programme continued. Louise wasn't really interested in watching it, and she wasn't sure why the rest of them wanted to. They'd all had front seat tickets, and she was the star, and they weren't going to learn anything new from this.

She was soon eating her words when the CCTV footage was played; she'd never seen that before. She knew that it had been played in court, but she had been too bored to pay attention to anything except the verdict.

It marked the first time any of the Belchers' had seen any kind of footage of the ordeal, not counting the news reports the day Louise was rescued, or the CCTV footage. It was just as new to them as it was to her.

The screen then turned black, and the audio from the 911 call from Shannon, one of the girls who discovered Louise, began to play.

“ _911, what's your emergency?”_

“ _Hi. Um, I need, like, the fire department, or a rescue team or something..?”_ Shannon trailed off, a picture of her appearing on one side of the screen.

“ _What seems to be the problem?”_

“ _Yeah, I'm Wharf Park, and there's a little girl trapped in a hole. I – I think it might be a well, actually.”_

“ _There's a little girl trapped in a well?”_

“ _Yes.”_

“ _Do you know if she's alright?”_

“ _I don't know; I can't see her.”_

“ _Okay. Do you know how old she is?”_

“ _Um, let me check... She says she's nine.”_

“ _Okay, nine. Do you know how long she's been down there?”_

“ _No, we didn't ask her.”_

“ _Did -”_

“ _She told us where her dad is, and my friend went to get him.”_

“ _Okay, we're sending someone out; the fire department will be there soon.”_

“ _Okay, thanks.”_

“ _Could you -”_ but the flustered teen had hung up.

Louise remembered that quite vividly; the two girls calling down to her, and telling her help was coming. She remembered thinking that she'd just wanted her dad, wanted him to get her out.

“I wish we could find those girls, and thank them,” said Linda thoughtfully.

“What for?” asked Louise.

“Well, they were a big help, weren't they? They found you, and told us, and called the firemen.” Louise didn't answer, and so Linda dropped it.

“I didn't know Pocket-sized Rudy did that,” Louise said, not taking her gaze from the screen, where shaky phone footage of the boy being lowered into the well was currently playing.

“Yeah, it was such a shame he couldn't do it,” said Linda, but Louise did not answer her, and continued to watch.

The sight of the drilling rig, and the park full of policemen and firemen, fascinated her. The machine was so big, and there were tonnes of men supervising it, all of them looking worried, but determined.

Then the scene shifted to a shot of the worried crowd standing anxiously behind the barriers, and she wasn't too sure if she liked that, especially as many kids from school were there, too.

“ _We'd been called in to supervise,”_ said Tim Butler, having been interviewed from the police station, with Charlie next to him. _“And our chief said to just stay near the well and talk to her. And I thought; well, alright, if it'll keep her calm, but she'll be out in just a few hours.”_

“ _So we did, we did talk to her. She was angry,”_ Charlie chuckled. _“She'd been in there for about five hours, and she was annoyed because it was taking so long.”_

“ _So, you two stayed there the entire time?”_ came Olsen's voice from off-camera.

“ _Pretty much. I went home on Sunday and came back Monday morning, and Tim went home on Sunday morning for a few hours. I don't know,”_ Charlie shrugged, _“I felt terrible about leaving her. We'd be hearing her cry, and shout, and scream, and I just felt so bad for her. I felt like the only thing I could do was just stay there and try to comfort her.”_

“ _In a way, we were lucky,”_ said Tim. _“As she was nine, she was able to talk to us, and we could explain things to her.” He paused slightly. “I think the worst thing was whenever she fell asleep; there was no way to check on her,” was all he said, preferring not to go into detail. “After a while, we got to know her moods, and know when she was tired.” He looked at Charlie, who nodded. “When she got tired, she'd be kinda huffy with us, you know? A bit grumpy. And when she was angry -”_

“ _I think everyone knew when she was angry,”_ Charlie grinned, and both men chuckled.

Louise continued to watch, more interested than she let on. She acted like her father climbing into the drilling rig was amusing, but the look of desperation on his face made her laughter die in her throat. She watched as her parents gave a statement to the press on-screen, suddenly noticing how worn out they looked. She wasn't sure how to feel about that. She did enjoy seeing all these strangers concerned about her, but seeing her family like that.. it made her stomach feel funny, and not in a good way.

“You could've showered,” she said, trying to break the silence. “You look homeless.”

“We did,” Linda agreed, “oh, look at the bags under my eyes.” She didn't attempt to explain that they had all been too concerned over Louise, because she knew her daughter had heard it all before, and so they continued to watch silently, with the occasional muttered comment from Louise.

However, when the footage of her being brought up was played, everyone was quiet, even Louise. She stared in fascination, watching her on-screen self be surrounded by cheering people. She frowned slightly as she saw her bruised face, her blackened limbs, the exhausted, confused expression on her face. She looked so weak and pathetic; that wasn't her, that wasn't who she was. Louise set her jaw as she heard sniffles coming from her parents, resolutely keeping her eyes on the television.

Although, she had to admit, it did make her feel good to see everyone cheering and clapping for her. Their joy was practically radiating through the screen. Why this didn't happen every single time she walked into a room was beyond her.

“ _Louise was free, but her ordeal was far from over,”_ narrated Olsen, as the scene cut to Dr Cabell.

“ _There was a moment, in the operating room, when we thought we were going to lose her,”_ said Cabell, and Bob straightened up, as did Linda. _“Because we arrived so quickly, the trauma team hadn't finished prepping, and some stuff wasn't ready. There was a slight delay in getting the rehydrating IV started – and that was one of the most important things – and I told someone to get some water. She didn't seem to realise it was there.”_ Cabell paused, remembering the sight of the motionless girl on the table; eyes half-closed and barely focused, mouth slightly open. _“So, while we were waiting for the IV, we had to dab her mouth with a damp cloth because she needed the fluids. Add to that her weak pulse.. I don't think we relaxed until she was in her room.”_

“Why did he say that?” asked Louise. She looked up at her parents, who looked shocked and close to tears; they didn't know about that. “Why?”

“Well,” Bob began, “the truth is...” he didn't really want to say, or even think of it. “You did almost die.” His breath caught in his throat, and Louise's jaw dropped a bit.

“You're lying,” she said quietly.

“We're not,” he told her. “You came very close to dying,” he wiped away a tear.

Deep down, Louise knew she could have died; she just never imagined that it was that close, that it could have been that quick. She got up and left the room, retreating to her bedroom.

Slamming the door, she threw herself onto her bed, gripping Kuchi Kopi tightly. She growled frustratedly when there came a knock on the door.

“Go away!” she snapped, her hands clenching into fists when she heard her door open.

“Louise, sweetie -” Linda began, but was interrupted by her daughter throwing her pillow across the room, followed by her lamp, which did not travel far due to it still being connected to the wall. “Louise -”

“Why didn't you _tell_ me?!” she raged, rising from her bed, and pacing the little room. “How could you not tell me something like that?! Don't you think I deserve to know?!”

“We didn't know how to tell you,” said Bob.

“What the hell does that mean? How hard is it to say, 'Louise, you almost died'? There you go, that was easy!”

“We didn't know about that part in the emergency room,” said Linda, sitting on the bed. “The doctor never told us that; I guess he didn't wanna worry us.” Now that she thought about it, she did have a lot of unread emails, and a missed call that she hadn't gotten round to calling back. She wondered if it had been Cabell letting her know what he was going to say.

“They told us you wouldn't have survived another day,” said Bob quietly. “It wasn't what we wanted to hear, and so we just didn't think about it. I think we were a little bit in denial.”

“But why didn't you tell me?”

“I'm not sure,” said Bob honestly. “Maybe because we didn't think you needed to hear that kind of stuff. I mean, you know you could have died, we know you could have died; we didn't see the point in bringing it up again.”

“It's not a nice thing to tell someone,” Linda sniffled. “And you're my baby; we knew there was a chance you could have died, and we didn't wanna think about it at all.”

“Alright, I _get_ it. I suppose you have a very minute point.”

“There's my baby,” Linda smiled at her. “Wanna come and watch the rest of it?”

“Fine, whatever.”

Back in the living room, Louise carefully situated herself back on the sofa. She no longer needed her seat ring, but she couldn't sit on the floor now. Not without extreme pain in her lower back whenever she stood. Or that one time, a few weeks ago, the pain had been so bad, it had actually brought tears to her eyes. She scowled at the memory of herself lying in bed while Linda sprayed Deep Heat on her back.

Pushing this unwanted memory aside, Louise looked at the television, but did not pay attention to the rest of the show. Now, a new memory was coming to her.

_Suddenly, there was a bright light, and Louise was surrounded by people. She felt herself being carefully rolled onto her side as the spinal board was removed, with several pairs of hands steadying her. When she was on her back again, someone was holding her head, keeping it in place._

“ _Louise, can you tell me how old you are?” came a voice from somewhere above her. Not having a clue where she was, not even knowing her name in that moment, it was all she could do to blink._

“ _Where's that IV?” someone else yelled._

“ _It's almost ready!” came another voice, and someone opened Louise's eye, shining a light into it._

“ _Pupils are mildly dilated; possibly a result of being underground.” The hand left her eye, only to lift her chin, one hand removing the oxygen mask, and placing a finger under her nose. “Breathing is laboured.” The hands carefully opened her mouth. “Airway is unobstructed.” A hand grabbed her wrist. “Pulse is rapid and weak. Blood pressure needs to be checked ASAP,” called the voice, and the person resumed holding her head._

“ _What is the delay with that IV?!” barked a male voice. “She needs fluids!”_

_The beeping from all the machines seemed very loud, almost overwhelming the multitude of voices; not that she would have understood them anyway._

“ _Louise, can you talk to me?” someone leaned over her, the exhausted girl not seeing them. “Are you in any pain? Does it hurt anywhere?” Louise's forehead and chin were then strapped to the table. “Patient is conscious, but unresponsive.”_

_More talking, more things she couldn't understand, then, “here, give her this.”_

“ _Louise?” came another voice after a moment. “Louise, we've got water here for you.”_

“ _Alright, we don't have time for that,” came Cabell's urgent voice, and then a wet cloth was applied over her mouth._

“ _Moderate to severe dehydration; we'll need CT scans of the kidneys.”_

“ _\- hypothermia; some warm intravenous solution -”_

“ _\- X-rays are already scheduled, sir -”_

“ _\- We need to stabilise her first.”_

“ _\- Get that rehydrating IV inserted!”_

“ _The most important thing is fluids. We can get the X-ray machine brought here.”_

“ _\- Splint the left foot -”_

“ _\- Once we have the X-rays, we'll go from there; she'll still need the MRI and CT scans -”_

“ _\- Make sure she -”_

“ _Louise,” someone leaned over her. “I know you're tired, but we need you to stay awake for as long as you can, okay? It would really help us out.” Nothing seemed to be making sense to her; it was like there was a delay between her ears and her brain._

_Louise could feel her left wrist being lifted again, but she was powerless to do anything._

“Louise? Louise?” her mother's nasally voice brought her back to reality.

“What?”

“Is everything all right? You seemed kinda out of it there.”

“Yeah; just bored out of my mind watching this,” she gestured to the television.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, we can watch something else,” Bob suggested.

“I really don't care.”

“ _So how often do you all talk about it?”_ came Olsen's voice, directed at Bob and Linda, who were sat together on their sofa.

“ _We don't talk about it unless Louise brings it up,”_ on-screen Bob said. _“We're not going to pressure her.”_

“ _But she has the option,”_ Linda added. _“She knows that we're there for her.”_ Louise huffed and crossed her arms as a clip of herself appeared on the television, for her segment, which had been filmed later in the day.

“ _I don't talk about it at all,”_ she heard herself say. _“I don't need to.”_

“ _You don't need to?”_

“ _No. I've got it under control,”_ was all she'd said.

* * *

_The Oceanside Times_

_February 22 nd, 2020_

_One year after her dramatic rescue from a water well, and Louise Belcher is content to let the anniversary pass quietly, granting only one interview._

_The rest of Seymour's Bay don't want a big fuss, either._

“ _Although it was an event with a happy ending, we don't want to make a big deal out of it,” said Mayor Thomas Sanders, who presented the rescuers with the Community Spirit Award last September._

_A year ago, Louise Belcher was an ordinary nine-year-old girl, when she became the subject of an intense rescue operation that captured the attention of the town._

_On the evening of February 22 nd, 2019, Louise was walking through Wharf Park, running an errand for her father, when she was approached by her bully. Logan Bush, then fifteen, was already in therapy for anger problems, and had been harassing Louise for more than a year. Logan, who wanted to perform a wrestling move on her, shoved her, causing Louise to stumble back, and she fell 80 feet to the bottom of an uncovered, abandoned well, only 14 inches in diameter. She remained trapped for five days before being rescued, as firemen, diggers, volunteers, and more worked around the clock to free her. _

_The mammoth effort to save her was unprecedented. Officials believed it would only take a few hours, but solid rock, basalt, slowed them down. Louise was also buried in rubble up to her chest, leaving her arms trapped, and the small size of the well meant that no one could squeeze down to reach her._

_Louise spent two months recovering from various injuries in hospital, and the boy who pushed her was charged with assault and battery, and was sentenced to five years in jail._

_Now 10, Louise spoke briefly to us about her life since that moment._

“ _It doesn't feel like a year ago,” she admitted. “It's gone so quickly.”_

_Today, Louise seems remarkably unaffected by the ordeal. The fall caused her to break her ankle and tail bone; when she was rescued, she was severely dehydrated; she was suffering from hypothermia, septicaemia, kidney failure, reduced blood flow to her limbs, gangrene, and permanent partial hearing loss caused by the drills._

_She prefers to live her life quietly, turning down offers for public appearances. She's become a local celebrity, but avoids the spotlight. This interview will mark her third time speaking to the media. “I'm glad to be out,” Louise says, when asked why she agreed to do the interview, “and it's a way to really make it seem real.”_

_Her parents, Bob and Linda, owners and operators of the “Bob's Burgers” restaurant on Ocean Ave., have said that the two men who freed their daughter, Patrick Baker, and Simon Landon, have already stopped by to visit and catch up._

“ _We invited them over,” revealed Linda, “so we could thank them again; we'll never not be grateful to them, and to everyone.”_

Linda cut the clipping from the newspaper and pasted it into her scrapbook. She was on her third one now. It had almost become an obsession; every single news article or snippet she could find was cut out and glued into the books, all in chronological order, oldest to newest. She had even gone online and printed out articles from other newspapers.

Linda couldn't explain why she did it; what happened to her daughter was something she would never, ever forget. The only explanation she could think of was that it was nice to look back and see how all these strangers dropped everything to help save her baby.

“Wow; I can't believe you've almost filled three books,” Bob observed, as he entered the bedroom to find her glueing away.

“I know; I didn't realise there was so much.”

“Do you think you're done now?”

“Probably. I don't think Louise is going to speak about it any more, so I don't think there'll be any more articles.”

“Why do you keep all of them?”

“This one's good!” she brandished the scissors to the latest cutting. “How often are we mentioned in the same article as the mayor?”

“Fair enough,” he shrugged. “Does Louise know about this?”

“Yeah; she seems okay with it.” Linda placed the book in a box with the others, and put it under the bed. She also had another box filled with all the cards and letters that people had sent them.

* * *

Making sure no one was about, Louise crept into her parents' room, shutting the door behind her. She crawled under the bed, and began rifling through the boxes, and pretty soon found what she was looking for.

Clutching the items close to her chest, Louise quickly and quietly left the room, being sure everything looked the same as it always did. Not that she cared, she just didn't want anyone to see what she'd been looking at.

Locking herself safely in her room, Louise sat cross-legged on her bed and picked up the first scrapbook. Linda, always one to show off her creative skills, had embroidered Louise's name on the front, along with little firemen hats, stars, and hearts. She slowly turned the pages, reading through every article, looking at every photo.

“ _Girl trapped in well was pushed,”_ was the story she was currently reading.

_A young girl who has been trapped in an abandoned water well for more than 24 hours was pushed in, sources reveal._

_Nine-year-old Louise Belcher was running an errand for her father Bob, a restaurateur, when she was approached by a 15-year-old boy._ _Logan Bush, who had been bullying her, pushed Louise, causing her to fall into the uncovered well, located in Wharf Park._

_Since then, dozens of volunteers have been working to free her._

_Louise is 80 feet below ground, and buried up to her chest in rubble. Rescuers are currently digging a parallel shaft 85 feet down and five feet away to reach her._

_The little girl could potentially have broken bones and a back injury, said local doctor, Steven Cabell, as well as possible organ damage. Although a camera has been lowered down the well, it is unknown how hurt Louise is. She told the first responders that she landed on her foot, and that her foot and back were hurting, but any other potential injuries are unknown._

_Despite this, the child seemed to be in good spirits, but “cranky and grumpy,” and has been ordering rescue workers around._

“ _She's been telling us to hurry up and get her out,” said police officer Charlie Wilkins, who has spent the past 20 hours lying by the well, talking to her._

_Louise's family – her father, mother, Linda; and two unnamed older siblings – remained in Wharf Park, near the well, talking to their daughter and sister._ _Like Louise, the Belchers' are frustrated at the slow process._

“ _They can't understand what's taking so long,” said police spokesman Carol Parker._

_Rescuers are struggling to drill through solid rock known as basalt, which is strong enough to break diamond-tipped drills. They are only able to dig an inch per hour._

Louise only nodded as she turned the page. She couldn't understand why she had the sudden urge to read these, but she hoped that once she got it out of the way, then it would be over and done with. The more she read, the less real it seemed. It didn't really happen, did it? It couldn't have; it wasn't possible.

But, as she turned the pages, looking at photos of her distraught family, it dawned on her. It really did happen. The shock hit her in the face like a freight train. She couldn't believe it.

She really _did_ spend five days – not just five days, 114 hours – trapped in a well. She had been trapped 80 feet below ground, and her injuries had been severe enough for her to have amputations.

She _knew_ what had happened; of course she did, she wasn't stupid, but now it was like she was learning about it for the first time.

Louise was reeling, blood pounding in her ears, feeling her heartbeat in her eyes, her brain, and her breath caught in her throat.

Why had this happened? She gripped the book. Why did it have to happen to her? A wave of anger swept over her; she'd never allowed herself to think about it before. Why couldn't they have gone faster? Why couldn't they have found someone skinny to lower down to her? Why didn't they have the sense to get the better drills right away? She knew by now that the digging of the rescue tunnel began four hours after she fell in. (That was another thing that angered her; she didn't fall, she was pushed.) Why did they wait for four hours?

The logical part of her mind knew that she hadn't been discovered for a while, and that they tried other things, but damn it, she had a right to be angry.

She also hated the fact that she had to be rescued, like she was some stupid, helpless princess in a tower who didn't even have the resourcefulness to make a ladder out of the bedsheets. Louise didn't need someone to rescue her; she could have gotten out of there herself, if they hadn't taken so long.

She wondered what would have happened if they'd gotten her out a day sooner. Would she still have needed the amputations? Maybe just a few of her toes?

Double checking that the door was locked, she settled back down onto her bed, and removed her shoes. Even now, she still couldn't bear to look at her stumps for too long.

She was extremely grateful for her prosthetics; they looked so real. You could barely tell where her foot ended, and the prosthesis began. Still, she didn't walk around barefoot, no matter how hot it got; she just couldn't take the risk.

Slowly, Louise pulled her prosthetics off and forced herself to look at her feet. They looked pretty much normal, except the ends were smooth and rounded. She still occasionally knocked or bumped them, but they were less prone to bruising. The phantom pain was becoming less and less common, though when it did occur, she was unprepared for it.

She scowled. This was the proof that it really happened. She remembered what her mother had said; Louise still didn't think she could ever be proud of them. They were a constant reminder of how she was a little coward, afraid of a teenage boy. They were a symbol of her stupidity; if she'd had the sense to raise just one arm, she could have gotten out immediately. Why didn't she try harder? Louise was sure she could have wriggled an arm free if she'd persevered.

Blinking back angry tears, she hurled the scrapbook across the room.

* * *

“There's my little babies!” Linda cooed, as her children entered the restaurant before they headed off to school. “Looking forward to another day at school?”

“No one in history will ever be excited for school, and they never will be,” said Louise. “One day, lightning will strike it, and we'll never have to go again.”

“I'm sure it will, if you think positive,” said Linda, to keep the peace. “Alright, bye babies, have fun!” she called as they left.

“Damn; that door is still squeaking,” Bob muttered, heading over to try and fix it. “Lin, come and look at this,” she saw Bob was looking out the open door, and she went over to him. Poking her head around the door, she looked down the street, seeing her children walk to school. “Look at her walking,” Bob brought a hand up to his face, welling up. Linda looked; there was Louise, in between her siblings, matching pace with them, walking perfectly normally. She still had a hint of a limp, but it wasn't noticeable unless you really looked.

“Wow.” It had been gradual; they hadn't noticed Louise's walking improving, but now they could see just how far she'd come. Physically, at least. Mentally, she still wasn't herself. Sure, the medication was helping, but Louise wasn't who she used to be. She still had nightmares; they weren't as frequent as they had been, but they hadn't completely gone away.

According to her therapist, Louise had opened up a little bit, once or twice, but they hadn't yet made the big breakthrough, and she still hadn't regained her special bond with her father. Bob was grateful that the Japan trip had repaired their relationship a bit, but she still wasn't as close to him as she used to be. Bob wasn't sure if she still blamed him or not, but they were slowly, but surely, getting back to where they were.

On the plus side, her mood swings were becoming less frequent, she didn't appear to be as angry as she had been, and her grades had improved.

Bob and Linda were just grateful that she was still with them, and she was getting better. Little things like that made them both emotional now, because they knew it could have all been so different. So, yes, they had cried during the first school play Louise had been in since her return to school, they did shed tears during her tenth birthday. Bob had sobbed at Thanksgiving; they'd allowed the kids to stay out later during Halloween, and they'd both cried like babies during the Wagstaff School Christmas Concert. They'd left the room on Christmas morning to cry in each others' arms, because they were so happy.

Even when Louise was at her lowest, even when she was in her foulest mood, they couldn't be mad at her, they just couldn't.

* * *

“Hey, guys,” said Regular-sized Rudy, as they walked through the corridors. “Are you excited for the field trip next week?”

“I'm excited for anything that gets me out of this hell hole,” said Louise, stopping off at her locker.

“Heyy, Rudy!” came a high-pitched whine, and Louise groaned. If she could just push Chloe Barbash off a cliff, then she could die happy.

“Oh, hey, Chloe.”

“Now, Rudy, I want you to be careful on that trampoline, okay? We need you at school,” she laughed, an annoying, tinkly laugh that made Louise want to punch her in the face.

“Rudy's not made of glass, Chloe. He can handle a trampoline.” Actually, he probably couldn't, but Chloe didn't need to know that.

“Oh, Louise, I didn't see you there,” Chloe said, in her sickly sweet 'look-at-me-I'm-super-nice' voice. “Well, _well,_ it's great to see you walking so _well.”_

“Why wouldn't I be?” Louise bared her teeth in what she hoped was a smile.

“Didn't you have amputations, or was that just a crazy rumour?” Louise laughed, surprised at herself at how bitter it sounded.

“Do I look like I've had amputations? Do you see any fake legs?”

“Oh, gosh, Louise, I'm just trying to make conversation. Don't be so grumpy. Maybe you just _misheard_.” Chloe flounced off down the hallway, leaving Louise seething. By now, it was well known that she was partially deaf. While being moved to the front of the classes helped, being spoken to like she was stupid brought her anger to the surface. Just like in “SpongeBob” when everyone thought Sandy was dumb, and Patrick talked excruciatingly slowly to her. If _one_ more person _SPOKE – LIKE – THIS_ while talking to her, well, she couldn't be held responsible for her actions.

“I don't know what's gotten into her lately,” Rudy apologised. “She's been quite -”

“Mean?” finished Tina.

“A huge bitch?” Gene supplied.

“If you wanna call it that,” shrugged Rudy.

“I would,” muttered Louise.

Chloe had been unusually antagonistic towards Louise lately; Louise wasn't sure why, but she didn't appreciate it. Whether Chloe was jealous of the attention Louise had received, or maybe she was finally showing her true colours, Louise didn't like it. Perhaps a bucket of fish guts down the Barbash family chimney would be the ticket?

For some reason, Miss LaBonz appeared to be in a foul mood, in no mood to teach, and so she had stuck on a DVD for their English class. Not that Louise was complaining; TV was TV, and this meant no work. The film was some generic CGI kids movie, probably too young for them, but again, she wasn't about to complain.

She shifted in her chair as LaBonz put the DVD in. Even though it had been massively beneficial to her, she was none too pleased about being at the front of every class. She'd opted for the seat on the far left, so her good ear was facing the room. But it meant that couldn't plan anything; she was right in the line of fire. No passing notes, no pretending to do work; her teachers could see everything. Louise pursed her lips and gripped her pen; why couldn't she have some kind of earpiece, connected to the teachers? That way, she could remain at the back. She still wouldn't listen, but it was the principal.

“Oh, Miss LaBonz?” Chloe thrust her hand in the air, causing both Louise and LaBonz to groan. “Aren't you going to put the subtitles on?”

“Why would I do that?” the teacher grumbled.

“Why, for Louise.” Digging her nails into her desk, Louise turned around to face Chloe.

“There's nothing wrong with my eyes,” she said, mimicking Chloe's syrupy sweet tone.

“Oh, I know that,” Chloe observed Louise, her eyes glimmering. “I wouldn't want you to miss out on any of the dialogue.”

“How _thoughtful_ of you.”

“Well, I'm just trying to be inclusive.”

“I think it'll be fine, Chloe,” Regular-sized Rudy said quietly, and that made Louise even angrier. Turning back around, resumed gripping her pen, as LaBonz started the movie, with no subtitles. She was desperate to get out of there, but she knew if she asked to be excused, then people would think that she was embarrassed and upset. Which she wasn't.

Louise paid no attention to the film, instead stewing, and filling up her workbook with several drawing of the most unfortunate “accidents” occurring to Chloe. She was definitely going to get a bucket of fish guts.

When the bell rang for break time, Louise tore out the drawings and crumpled them up as the kids rushed out of the room. Nobody needed to see them. Except perhaps Chloe. In the hall, she caught sight of Regular-sized Rudy, and her anger exacerbated.

“What is your problem?!” she snapped, shoving him on the shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“I don't need you to fight my battles for me!” she seethed, pacing in front of the confused boy.

“What are you -”

“What, you think I can't defend myself against some prissy little diva?!”

“Louise -” but she would not listen.

“I don't need your help!” She jabbed her finger into his shoulder, before marching down the hall. This time, however, Rudy followed her and caught up with her in the playground.

“Louise, what's the problem?” He stood in front of her, forcing her to stop. “What did I do?”

“You need to stop treating me like a baby!” Her face was red.

“I haven't been treating you like a baby.”

“Then what was that, in the classroom?”

“What?”

“Telling Chloe to shut up! I had it under control, I'll have you know!” Rudy gave a little sigh.

“Louise,” he said quietly, “I wasn't trying to annoy you; I'm sorry if you thought I was. I just wanted Chloe to stop talking, so we could watch the movie.” Louise, still scowling, only stared at him. “She's been kinda getting on my nerves lately,” he said honestly. He'd never admit it to Louise, but yesterday, he'd pulled Chloe aside, and asked her why she was being so mean. He guessed that this was her response.

“Join the club,” was all Louise said.

“And why shouldn't I defend you, if I wanted to? Isn't that what friends do?” Louise groaned.

“Yeah, pathetic people who can't handle anything!”

“I know you can handle yourself, Louise, but like I said, I just wanted Chloe to stop talking.”

“Then why didn't you tell her to stop talking?!”

“She wouldn't have listened. You know what she's like.”

“Couldn't you have done something else without making me look like some pathetic little princess?”

“That wasn't my intention. Look, Louise..” he hesitated slightly. “You're the strongest person I know, and I know you don't need help from anyone. But I like helping my friends, or at least, trying to help them.” She was still staring at him. “I know you don't like attention being drawn to.. certain things, and I was trying to get her to stop,” he admitted. Louise remained silent. After a moment, her scowl lifted slightly.

“Alright, fine; we're in agreement that Chloe Barbash is a poisonous little viper, and needs to be stopped.” She paused. “And, for what it's worth, I guess I see your point.” Rudy smiled at her, and her mouth twitched in response. “Now, come on; let's not waste our break by sitting around and talking!”

They walked through the playground, Louise's mood slowly dissipating. Until Chloe ran up to them.

“Rudy! _There_ you are!” she simpered, taking his arm. Louise wanted to punch her for reasons she couldn't explain. “We missed you.”

“Oh, okay. Break just started,” he pointed out, still completely oblivious to her attempts at charming him.

“Sit next to me in history, will you?” she batted her eyelashes at him.

“Oh, um, I'm not sure if we can just switch seats,” he said, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Too bad, Chloe; I'll guess you'll have to sweet-talk the answers out of some other poor sap,” Louise smirked.

“Louise, this is a private conversation; why don't you run along and play?” said Chloe condescendingly. “But don't run too fast. Wouldn't want you to trip and _fall,_ now, would we?"

“Alright, what's your problem?!” Louise snapped, having had enough.

“Problem?” Chloe raised one eyebrow, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. “I don't have a problem.” Her eyes were glinting. “What, you think I would tease you because you fell into an uncovered well, and spent the next five days crying for your – OOF!” Louise had gut-punched her. Chloe dropped to her knees, clutching her stomach, her face red.

“Louise!” barked Miss LaBonz. “I saw that! You can go straight to the -”

“I'm going!” Louise screeched, stamping back inside.

Rudy was speechless, but he helped Chloe to her feet anyway, and he saw Gene and Tina approaching him out the corner of his eye.

“Can you believe her?!” Chloe gasped, still holding her stomach.

“That was not cool, Chloe,” said Rudy quietly.

“Oh, come on! It was just a joke! I was only joking!”

“No. You went too far.”

“What happened?” asked Tina.

“Chloe was making fun of Louise,” Rudy explained.

“I was _joking!_ ” she repeated. “Can't Louise take a joke?”

“Yeah, she can,” said Gene. “But there's a difference between joking and whatever it is you were doing, which I'm pretty sure wasn't joking. ”

“Come on!” she actually stamped her foot.

Rudy only walked away with Gene and Tina, leaving Chloe alone.

* * *

Cynthia pulled up outside Bog Harbour State Penitentiary, where her son was incarcerated. She and Tom visited him once a month, which was the maximum allowance.

That day, Tom was unavailable as he had to work, so Cynthia made the thirty minute drive alone.

As per usual, she passed through the scanner, her bag was checked, and placed securely in a locker, and she was escorted to the visiting room.

Even though she had come there every month since August, she was still unhappy at the way her belongings were searched every time she entered the building, how she had to remove her pearls, and how her bag had to be left behind. She didn't trust those flimsy-looking lockers.

“It's protocol, ma'am,” a police officer had said to her when she had a made a 'minor' fuss about it. “We can't allow anyone to bring bags of any kind in; in case the prisoners are given contraband.”

“You seriously think I'm going to give my son anything that will help him break out?!” she'd asked incredulously, which, along with the shouting and raging, had resulted in her being removed from the prison, and she was not allowed to see Logan that day.

To her credit, she'd learnt her lesson, and remained silent from the moment she arrived inside the building, until she was in the visiting room.

As she entered the large, grey room, filled with dozens of tables, most of them filled, she spotted Logan. He was sitting by himself on one of the back tables, and she approached him.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she smiled, sitting down opposite him.

“Hi,” Logan muttered, his chin in his hand. Cynthia took the moment of silence to study him; he'd lost more weight, and she still hadn't gotten used to his hair not being styled; it hung limply over his forehead.

“You're still a bit pale,” she observed.

“Well, I can't exactly go outside and get a tan, can I?” he sneered, his fists clenching. Already, she could tell it was going to be a tense visit. Cynthia opened her mouth to retort, but she pulled a face.

“Have you been smoking?!” she hissed, wanting to cough at the telltale smell.

“So what if I have? There's not much to do around here!”

“I will not have you smoking! Where do you even get cigarettes?”

“I buy them with the money I earn!” Logan snapped. “I can't believe I have to do laundry and sew clothes; it's humiliating! So, I can spend my money on what I want!”

“Oh, it won't kill you to learn a trade. When you're released, you'll need to find a job.”

“When I'm released, I'm gonna.. sue them for everything they've got,” Logan hesitated slightly as he thought about what he really wanted to do as soon as he got out, which was to seek revenge on Louise.

“You're not living off me and your father; you'll get a job,” Cynthia insisted. “And you are not going to smoke any more; I won't have it.”

“You can't stop me, and you can't tell me what to spend my money on! I earned that; believe me!” It was true; she couldn't stop him, but that didn't make her any happier.

“Well, you mark my words, as soon as you are out of here, a cigarette will never pass your lips!”

“When I get out of here, I'll be a proper adult, and then I can do whatever the hell I want.”

“That's true, but as long as you live under my roof, you'll live by my rules!”

“Well, maybe I'll get my own place, then,” his eyes glinted. Cynthia raised an eyebrow.

“And how are you going to do that?”

“I told you; I'll sue. That judge and jury were corrupt! They only took Louise's side because she's a little kid! They just felt sorry for her. If it hadn't been all over the news, then I wouldn't be here!”

“You can do whatever you want when you get out,” said Cynthia, privately wholeheartedly agreeing with him.

She had recently seen Linda and her children on the way to the grocery store (Cynthia would never step foot inside Crave N Save, or other such places), but she noted how normal the Belchers looked. Looking at Louise, you'd never have known what happened, and Cynthia truly felt that the girl should receive some sort of punishment for putting her son in jail. It took everything she had to not get out of the car and confront them.

The only reason she didn't was because, for some reason, people still spoke ill of her and her family. She'd regained a few friends, but most people appeared to be of the opinion that she thought her son an angel, who could do no wrong. It wasn't the case, of course; she'd had trouble with Logan in the past, but this was different. It was just a simple accident, and she couldn't understand why she was still being given a hard time over it.

* * *

“Stupid well,” Louise muttered, lying on her bed, her dream notepad open in front of her. She wasn't having a good day; a particularly bad nightmare had woken her far too early, and it had been playing on her mind all day. So, now she was moody and grumpy. “What kind of idiot makes a well that small?” She'd never seen one like that before.

She angrily flipped through her dream notes, before deeming it a lost cause, and heading into the kitchen to get the laptop, snapping that no one disturb her. The rest of her family were in the living-room, unwinding after a long day at work and school.

Back in the sanctity of her room, Louise typed in _'Seymour's Bay history'_ into Google, and when she did not find what she was looking for, she typed in _'Wharf Park, Seymour's Bay history.'_ If she could find the person, the personification of stupidity, who had dug the well, then she could slap the idiocy out of him. Unusual for her, she read every single page on the history of her little town she could find; probably the name of the person who dug the well would be buried in the middle of a wall of text.

She learnt that her well – she as good as owned it – was almost 100 years old, and was similar to an artesian well, or a borewell.

It was originally dug to be 50 feet, but was extended using drills in the early 60's – with the brick lining being brought down further, as well – to preserve the freshness of the water. The well hadn't been used since 1979 (“A load of good extending it was!” huffed Louise), and the decision to drain it was made on February 8th, 2019, which was when the steel casing and the wellhead had been removed.

 _'The idea to make the well so small – innovative at the time – was a way of getting cleaner water. Mr Fairfax, whose idea it was, believed the smaller and deeper the well, the fresher the water. He also did not want a large well being an eyesore in such a beautiful public park,'_ Louise read. _'Another reason Mr Fairfax insisted the well be small, was because he was also worried about children and small animals falling in.'_ Louise barked a bitter laugh.

Now she didn't know who to blame. If the steel casing hadn't been removed, there wouldn't have been a cave-in. If the wellhead hadn't been removed, she wouldn't have even fallen in. Louise would have gladly taken whatever Logan had planned for her, rather than spend five days in hell. Suddenly, the Reverse Norwegian Stinkhold didn't seem so bad.

That was all the information she could find out about the well, apart from that it had been filled in and covered, but she knew that anyway.

It wasn't fair; she folded her arms and frowned at the laptop. This Mr Fairfax died decades ago; Logan was in jail, so who was she supposed to blame? She didn't know who exactly had delayed filling in the well, or who removed the wellhead, so what could she do? She'd already sent several angry emails to whoever she thought was responsible for it, but what could she do apart from that?

She shut the laptop, giving it a little kick, not enough to cause any damage, but enough to express her displeasure. Reaching under her pillow, Louise pulled out her other notebook, and began hurriedly writing.

“Louise?” her mother knocked on the door, and Louise quickly hid her notebook before Linda entered. “We're just about to watch a movie; wanna join us?”

“No,” Louise didn't look at her mother.

“Everything okay?” Linda sat on the edge of the bed, and Louise dug her fingernails into her arm.

“Fine.”

“Are you sure? You can always talk to me, or to your father.”

“I said it's fine!” she snapped, just wanting to be alone.

“Okay, then, sweetie.” Linda rose and made her way to the door. “If you change your mind – about anything – we're in the living room.” Louise did not answer, and Linda returned to her family.

“She doesn't wanna join us?” Bob guessed as his wife sat down next to him.

“No,” she sighed. “Something's bothering her; I think she had another bad dream last night. How was she at school today?” she directed this to Gene and Tina.

“Uuh, she was okay,” said Tina slowly. “She didn't really talk much.”

“Okay,” Bob nodded. “Well, she's probably just having a bad day, so the best thing we can do is just let her deal with it in whatever way she does that.”

Louise awoke later that night with a start. Panting slightly, she reached over to switched her lamp on, and felt under her pillow for her dream interpreting book and her notepad. Flipping to an empty page, she began writing.

 _'I dreamt I was in my room, probably at home, but it looked like a hospital room, and it's late at night and I can't sleep. There's a man in the corner watching me.'_ Louise checked the corners of her room, breathing a small sigh of relief when she saw nothing. _'He's wearing a long, black cloak with the hood up, and I can't see his face. But I know he's watching me. Just like the other dreams. This time, he came up to my bed, and leaned down watching me, before moving back. Then he disappears.'_ When she had finished, Louise opened her interpretation book. She'd learnt quickly to write down everything she could remember as soon as she awoke, and then to try and find the meaning.

“Hooded figure, hooded figure,” she muttered, turning the pages, trying to shake the feeling of deja vu. She'd had that nightmare before, but it wasn't like an ordinary nightmare. It was more along the lines of her bad dreams of being in the well, and emergency room, in that they were frighteningly realistic, and they actually happened. That was what unnerved her. If those two happened, who's to say that this dream wasn't real, as well? Why would someone in a long, black cloak be in her room, watching her? It didn't make sense.

She tapped her pen against the page marked 'Figures and entities', and began reading. _'Dreaming of a hooded figure can actually mean that you are buying yourself more time to complete a project or endeavour in your waking life. Perhaps you are hiding away or delaying doing something because you feel it needs more time invested in it. It's possible you don't think you have the space in your life to complete it to the best of your ability or indeed at all. It might be wise to ask for help or adjust your plan so it's more manageable._

_You may feel threatened by the hooded figure in your dream- just as you may feel threatened by an aspect of your personality that you keep withdrawn and it's beginning to create a problem for you. Perhaps it's time to look at this part of yourself more closely rather than ignoring or suppressing it. Can you talk to someone? A friend, partner or family member or even a professional?'_

That second part made her stop. 'An aspect of your personality that you keep withdrawn.' So, apparently, the only solution was to talk about it? That was great, just great. Louise studied the page, frowning. How was she supposed to talk when nobody could possibly understand? Louise herself barely understood what was happening inside her mind, so how could she talk about it?

Besides, even if she wanted to, the mental walls she had built up around herself wouldn't allow her to. They just wouldn't.

In the dim light, Louise could see the scars on the back of her hand, and her inner arm, and she frowned again. Applying the makeup every single day was getting tiresome, but she just couldn't bring herself to go out without it. Everyone would stare, and not in a good way. She was Louise Belcher, future ruler of the world; she deserved all the attention, she just didn't want people staring at her scars. Why should she have to put up with that? She shouldn't, so she wasn't going to give anyone the opportunity.

Shrugging, Louise placed the books back under her pillow and switched her lamp back off.

“Rise and _shiiine,_ swee-” Linda's too cheerful morning singing was abruptly cut off by her moody youngest.

“Alright, I get it; I'm up,” she snapped, throwing her blanket back. Linda made to leave before she noticed something.

“Louise, remember to take your prosthetics off before you go to bed; you heard what the doctor said.”

“My body, my rules,” Louise muttered, sticking her feet back under the covers.

“You need to let your feet breathe, otherwise you'll get another infection.”

“So? I'll get one if I want one.” Linda gave a small sigh.

“I don't think you'll like that, sweetie. Remember what happened the last time? All that pain you were in?”

“No, I don't remember,” Louise deliberately looked her mother in the eye as she lied.

“Louise, you need to take your prosthetics off when you go to sleep, okay? This is non-negotiable. Now, come on; you don't wanna be late.”

“Ugh, it's just a dumb museum,” she groaned. It wasn't even a good museum; it was the same old boring Museum of Natural History, where they always went. Knowing her luck, the Amazon exhibit would be closed (again), and even if it were miraculously open, she couldn't do any of the fun stuff; she couldn't climb ladders, and she still sometimes struggled with stairs.

* * *

Outside the school, Louise did not even attempt to listen as Mr Frond went over the ground rules, before placing the Buddy Board on the side of the bus. Louise stepped forward, running her finger down the list as she searched for her name.

“Regular-sized Rudy. Again.” She supposed it wasn't too bad; she could be stuck paired together with Millie, or Harley. Or even the karate-obsessed Arnold, or Abby. Or Chloe. She would rather be stuck with the asthmatic boy who was practically allergic to life.

“Hey, Louise, looks like we're buddies again,” came Rudy's voice to her right, and he stood next to her.

“Yeah,” she replied, biting back the urge to add, 'I can read, you know.'

“I can't believe we're going back to the same museum. Why can't we go somewhere fun, like NASA, or a candy factory?”

“Or the Funplex, or Funtime Junction,” said Louise, suddenly wistful. She hadn't been to a place like that for ages. Family Funtime was alright, but she liked the squashy indoor play areas, with the slides, and ball pits, and the like. She suddenly had the urge to go to one, but the urge died as quickly as it came; her climbing skills were now on par with a three-year-old.

Louise dawdled as the kids climbed onto the buses, still deep in thought. What if going to Funplex regularly would be good for her? It could help with her climbing, and then everyday tasks would get easier. If she put it that way, her parents might be more willing to take her there every so often. Maybe, seeing as she was a VIP, she could get the owners to close the venue down for her? Then she wouldn't have to be embarrassed about falling.

Louise made sure she was the very last on the bus, so she could take her time climbing the stairs. She'd gotten quicker, but going last meant that people couldn't see her struggling. Placing one hand on the railing, she took a breath and swung her foot up onto the step. She didn't understand why it was still so hard for her.

“Well, hopefully, the Amazon Room will be open this time,” Rudy was saying as she sat down next to him.

“Mm,” she grunted, making a mental note to get the window seat on the way back. Louise listened to Rudy chatter happily, giving a non-committal noise every now and then, before quickly tilting her head to the side, a slightly frustrated expression crossing her face.

“Are you okay?” Rudy looked concerned.

“Just wish we were going anywhere but the museum,” said Louise, ignoring the high-pitched ringing shooting through her left ear. That had been happening for the better part of a year, but she still hadn't gotten used to it, mainly due to how random it was. Sometimes, it was her left ear, sometimes it was her right, and sometimes it was both. Usually, it would be the high-pitched noise, which sounded like a flatline, but higher, and other times, it would be beeping. It sounded to Louise like Morse Code. Honestly, she preferred the flatline noise, because, though annoying, it was consistent, and didn't distract her like the beeping did.

Luckily, by the time they arrived at the museum, the ringing had stopped. Again, she waited until the bus had cleared before she got off.

“You coming, Louise?” Rudy turned to find Louise rummaging through her backpack.

“You go on ahead.” When Rudy had left, Louise stood, swinging her bag over her shoulder, making her way to the front of the bus.

Louise waited until all the students were distracted, before she grasped the rail, and stepped off the bus. She stepped a little too far forward on the bottom step, and grabbed the railing, but it was no good. She braced herself for the fall. Fortunately, Frond was nearby, and caught her arm, steadying her.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly. Louise did not answer and yanked her arm out of his grip.

Just as she predicted, the museum was just okay. The Amazon Room was closed off, due to repairs, but she didn't feel like sneaking in. Instead, she walked around sullenly with Regular-sized Rudy, not even interested in the sand exhibition.

“Maybe next year, we'll get to go somewhere better,” said Rudy, as they stood in front of a prehistoric display.

“There's nothing good in this crappy town; we'll have to go far away,” Louise said, looking up at the mannequin with indifference.

“We could go to Six Flags.” Louise hummed in response, not wanting to admit she had never been there.

“Anything but a museum.”

“They are really boring,” Rudy agreed. “Even the Amazon Room is closed again. We're just not meant to see it,” he grinned at her, waiting for her to suggest sneaking in.

“We've seen it once; we don't really need to see it again.”

“I liked it in there.”

“Well, if you wanna sneak in there and almost die again, be my guest,” she said, still not looking at him.

“I think I'll be fine, as I'll have my inhaler with me this time,” he joked, but Louise did not look amused.

“If you wanna go in there, then go in; I'm not gonna stop you.”

“Don't you wanna come?”

“I told you, I've seen it before.”

“Fair enough. It can't really compare to the first time.”

When the Belcher kids had arrived home, Louise slipped into the kitchen, while Gene and Tina sat down in a booth.

“Mm, I never get tired of “Sands from Exotic Lands!” said Gene, reaching into his pocket, and dumping sand all over the table.

“I liked the big painting of horses. And the butts of Lewis and Clark.” She traced her finger through the sand as Louise rejoined them.

“I liked the part where we all left,” said Louise, ignoring the sand.

“It's not that bad,” Gene mused, sifting the sand through his fingers.

“Louise, why did you – Gene, where did you get that?” Bob sighed as he looked through the hatch.

“It's from the museum. This sand has come all the way from Africa!” Gene gasped.

“Why did you bring it here?”

“It wanted to travel! It was bored being stuck in that museum; it wanted to see the world!”

“Okay. Anyway, Louise, why did you change the schedule? We're not closing early on Wednesday.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Well, don't you want to go to Funplex?” Upon hearing that, Gene and Tina perked up. They _did_ want to go to Funplex.

“Funplex? What's brought this on?”

“It's not like we need to stay open; they're not exactly lining up to get in here. Staying open with no customers just wastes money.”

“Okay, but what's all this about Funplex?”

“I think we all need to get out of this hellhole; we all deserve a little break.” Bob knew exactly what she meant, which was, 'I want to go to Funplex.'

“You know, it's not a bad idea, Bobby,” said Linda. “It might be good to take the evening off and have some fun.”

“What? We have fun; it's fun here. Right?” he directed this last piece to Gene and Tina.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” they both said slowly, and Bob sighed again.

“Alright, fine; we'll close early on Wednesday, and go somewhere fun.” He had to smile as his family cheered.

* * *

A few mornings later, Louise awoke and dressed. Before she made her way into the kitchen, she quickly wrote down the night's dream in her notepad.

 _'Last night I dreamt that I was back in the emergency room. It was almost the same as the others, except it seemed really short. All the doctors were sticking needles in me, and taking lots of blood, and they cut my legs off. They didn't give me any fake ones. They didn't have faces, just hundreds of hands. I think I had other dreams, but I don't remember them.'_ Making a little note to look into it more later on, she hid the book under her pillow, and went into the kitchen.

Gene and Tina were already at the table, pancakes piled on their plates, Tina with her water, and Gene with his milk. Linda was busy with the chopping board, doing who-knows-what, and Bob was placing the milk back in the fridge before taking his seat.

In the doorway, she paused, glancing at the little television, before deciding that the news was too boring for her to waste her precious time on. She went to sit down when she saw Linda pick up what she had just been crushing, and sprinkle it into Louise's glass of milk. Louise knew it was her milk, because everyone else had their drinks.

“What was that?!” she demanded, crossing over to her mother in two strides.

“Louise!” Linda gasped and accidentally knocked the drink over. “I didn't see you there!”

“What did you put in my drink?!” Bob groaned quietly, wanting to hide in his newspaper. He didn't have the energy for this, especially at this time in the morning.

“I – I..” Linda wasn't sure what to say.

“Why have you been drugging me?!”

“Louise, we haven't been drugging you,” Bob assured her, as Linda mopped up the spill. It was a very broad definition, and he didn't think what they were doing counted.

“Don't you lie to me!” Louise turned to her father, the fury radiating out of her in waves. “Stop lying, and tell me what the hell is going on!”

“Alright. Alright,” Linda took a deep breath. “Sit down, sweetie.”

“Why? Are you gonna tie me to chair and force pills down my throat?!” Louise snarled. She made to leave, but Bob stopped her.

“Louise, please, just give us a chance to explain,” he said, bending down to her level.

“Why should I?!”

“Just – please, let us explain,” he implored.

“ _Fine,_ ” she huffed. “What were you hiding in my drinks?”

“Sit down,” Linda repeated, and this time Louise complied. “Louise,” Linda didn't know how to say it, so she decided to be blunt. “Sweetie, you have depression and anxiety.”

Whatever Louise was expecting, it certainly wasn't that, and she stared at her mother.

“What?”

“It's true,” said Linda. “Remember last year; all those times we went to the doctors'?” Louise nodded. Much as she hated to admit it, she hadn't been in a good state of mind back then, and so had not paid attention to what the doctor or her mother had said. “He did some tests and diagnosed you. He said the best option was medication, but we didn't want to. We tried therapy at first, but it didn't seem to be helping, so we -”

“So you hid pills in my food,” Louise finished for her, looking disgusted. “Which is the most stupidest idea ever! I don't need medicine!”

“Louise,” began Bob quietly, “do you remember how you felt last year?”

“I don't feel things.”

“You felt.. different, right?” he said, and Louise hesitated. It was true; she hadn't felt like herself for a long time. She could remember when she started to get a bit of herself back. “You've been feeling better for a couple of months, haven't you?” She still didn't answer.

“... How can I have depression and anxiety?” she eventually asked. “That doesn't make sense. I wasn't feeling sad; I don't feel sad. And I wasn't anxious about anything!”

“Well, depression isn't always about feeling sad,” Bob didn't know _too_ much about it, but he'd done some research. “Sometimes it means you don't really feel anything. Do you remember a few years ago, when we watched _'Inside Out'_?” Louise nodded slowly. “Remember how Sadness and Joy left and all the kid could feel was fear, and anger, and disgust?” Louise nodded again, realisation dawning upon her. So much stuff made sense now. “But depressed people can feel happy and sad, too; it's complicated.”

“What about this anxiety rubbish?”

“All those headaches and tummy aches were signs of it,” Bob told her, wanting to cry. “The not sleeping, the bad dreams; those are all signs, too.”

“That sounds made up,” she hoped she sounded as sure as she felt. Except she wasn't so sure.

“Louise, honey, I'm not going to apologise for giving you medication, because it's helped you so much, even if you can't see it. But I will apologise for not telling you, and hiding it from you. I'm sorry,” said Linda sincerely.

“Why did you lie to me? Why did you hide the pills?”

“It was stupid,” Bob admitted. “At the time, we thought it was the best thing; I know you don't like taking medicine.” He remembered the many, many, _many_ instances in which Louise had proven this to be true. “We wanted you to get better, and so we did what we had to do.”

“You should have told me,” Louise said sternly.

“You would have refused to take them,” said Linda truthfully. 

“You don't know that,” although everyone in the room, Louise included, knew that the “Full Family Hold Down” would become a daily event, multiple times a day.

“Louise, we'll never lie to you again, okay?” _'When it comes to stuff like this,'_ Bob added mentally, not yet prepared for the Santa Claus and Easter Bunny revelations.

“You'd better not, or else I might start hiding them in your food.”

“Fair enough,” Linda had to chuckle. “Louise, I'll make you a deal; we promise to not hide your medicine, if you promise to take it every day, okay?” Louise hesitated, looking at her mother's outstretched hand. She didn't really want to agree, but she just couldn't back away from any kind of challenge.

“You've already lied majorly to me twice this year; how can I tell you're not gonna do it again?”

“You know everything that we know now,” Bob assured her. “We had good intentions, but we won't do it again.” Nodding, Louise shook Linda's hand, before heading over to the kitchen counter. The pills were in two separate blister packs, one for her depression, the other for her anxiety. Bob followed her, as she slowly popped them out. She'd never been too good with swallowing tablets; she hated the feeling. Why couldn't it be a syrup instead? “If you want,” said Bob, “we could carry on putting them in your drinks? You can't taste them; we won't hide it from you, and this way it'll be easier.”

“Fine, whatever,” was all Louise said, sitting back down at the table. Gene and Tina had finished their breakfast a while ago, and were waiting for her, so they could go to school. Bob was careful to let Louise see him crush up the little pills and mix the powder into her glass. _'Just like chocolate milk,'_ she told herself, as Bob placed it in front of her.

Louise screwed up her face as she lifted the glass, now convinced that she would be able to taste it, and she would spit it out everywhere, and she'd never be able to have any kind of medicine ever again. Taking a deep breath, she downed it as quickly as she could, and to her surprise, it tasted like ordinary milk. “So,” she said, wiping her mouth. “Are we ditching today?” she directed this at her siblings, who looked slightly confused.

“You're going to school, Miss Missy,” said Linda, putting a few pancakes on Louise's plate.

“Oh, come on!” she yelled, glad that the dynamic had returned to normal.

* * *

True to her word, Louise did take her pills every day; she crushed them up herself. It just became one of those things she now had to do. It soon became routine for her; two pills in the morning, and two in the evening. Much as she didn't want to admit it, they were helping, she could tell. Although still moody, she wasn't as bad-tempered as she had been.

Her mood was significantly improved the following Wednesday, when Bob and Linda pulled up outside school, ready to go.

“Yay, Funplex,” cheered Tina in her usual monotone.

“Well, we're not going to Funplex; we're going somewhere similar,” Bob explained, as he drove through the streets.

“Where?” asked Gene.

“It's an indoor play area called the “Mad House;” it's got lots of slides, and climbing stuff, and things,” said Bob.

“Whatever keeps us out of work,” came Louise's voice from the back seat.

Once inside the Mad House, Louise knew that she had made the right decision. Well, of course; she always did, but this was an extra good decision. It wasn't too busy, as it was the middle of the week, and she could see a big rainbow slide, tunnel slides, ball pits, pits filled with squashy foam blocks, soft obstacle courses, and even a little zip-lining area. Yep, she had definitely made a good decision.

Besides, it was for everyone's good; business had slowed down in the past few months, and Bob couldn't really afford to close every other Friday, as they used to. She was really doing this for the greater good. She was a hero.

Gene and Tina kicked off their shoes, as did Louise, and they entered the main play area. Louise looked down at her socked feet, suddenly regretting that she had picked a Wednesday; sure, there was less chance of someone spotting her falling, but if it was busier, then no one would notice her at all.

While Gene dove head first into the ball pit, and Tina struggled to climb up the rope ladder that would take her to the slide, Louise hesitated.

“Louise?” she heard her father's voice.

“Deciding what to do first,” she said, not looking at him. “Should I do the best thing first, or save it 'til last; these are important decisions.”

“Louise.” She turned around, and he bent down to her level. “No one will notice,” he said, and she raised her eyebrows casually. “In the nicest possible way, no one's going to be looking at you; they're all too busy having fun.”

“What's that got to do with anything?”

“I'm just saying that people trip and fall in here all the time; no one's going to notice anything.” He waited, but she said nothing, and so he continued. “Go on; go and have fun.” Louise grinned before jogging after her siblings.

In the end, they all ended up having a pretty good time, even Louise. Bob and Linda had sat on the sidelines, watching with amusement. Linda had managed to sneak into the area and had gone down the tunnel slide, before she was instructed not to do that again by a member of staff.

Louise was very tired, more so than her brother and sister. She felt immensely proud of herself; she'd done everything, and only fell a couple of times, and that was due to the squashy floor (and running too fast, but that couldn't be helped). She'd even held her own on the trampoline.

“We need one of those foam pits at home,” she said, referring to the deep hole filled with foam blocks, into which kids could jump from a trampoline. Louise had actually bounced straight into the centre of the pit. If she could do that every day, that would be great; it was such a struggle to get out, as she kept sinking further in, she would probably never have to work again. It wouldn't be her fault; she would simply be stuck in the foam, what could she do?

“And the zip-line; what a convenient way to get from bedroom to kitchen,” said Gene, nodding happily.

“I think having a slide instead of stairs would be pretty cool,” said Tina.

“How would we get back upstairs?” asked Bob, stumping her.

“Oh, uh, I didn't think about that,” she admitted.

“I told you; a podium that rises up through the restaurant!” Louise insisted, concealing a yawn.

“Right, forgot about that,” Bob chuckled.

When they arrived home, Linda immediately sent them to bed; they'd been at the Mad House for more than five hours, and the kids were tired.

Louise, in particular, slept well that night, and for the first time in almost a week, she did not have a nightmare.

“Lin, did we do the right thing?” asked Bob, as he climbed into bed.

“What do you mean?”

“Should we have taken Louise there tonight?” Now, she was looking at him.

“Of course we should have; did you see how happy she was? And we had fun; we all did.”

“No, it's not that. It's just -” he sighed. “What if it was too much for her?”

“I'm sure she's not in any pain, and if she -”

“No, not that.” He paused. “What – what about her heart?”

“What? Bobby, her heart's fine,” she reached out and squeezed his hand. “She's never had a problem with that.”

“But.. it was so weak. Do you remember, they wouldn't let us see her, in case..” he broke off, burying his head in his hands.

“Hey, come here,” Linda cradled his head against her chest. “I remember that, but listen to me. Her heart is fine. The doctors would have told us if it wasn't. It was only that first night, and then she was fine.”

“But what if all that running wasn't good for her? She hasn't done anything like this for more than a year.”

“I understand you're worried, but she'll be fine. Maybe what we can do is ease her into this? It's good for her to move about, so if we do this again, we'll get her to take it slowly, okay?”

“Okay,” Bob sniffled. “She's going to be okay?” he tried to sound sure, but it came out as a question.

“Of course she is.” Linda kissed him, and then lay down, and Bob did the same.

However, a few hours later, he awoke and got out of bed. Making his way toward Louise's room, he quietly opened her door, and silently observed her. When he saw the rise and fall of her chest, then he relaxed, before heading back to bed.

* * *

Logan Barry Bush groaned and covered his eyes as he and his cellmate were awoken by the prison guard. Knowing that resisting would only result in punishment, he stretched and got out of bed. He checked his pockets; only 16 cents, not enough for a telephone call, and so he made his bed, and then entered the communal washroom with the other inmates.

As was routine, they headed to the commissary for breakfast; a minuscule bowl of oatmeal, a small portion of mixed fruit, and toast and margarine, with a cup of coffee. Logan wrinkles his nose at the sight. Despite already having been there for eight months, he still couldn't get used to the bland, terrible food, or the toddler-sized portions.

After breakfast, the inmates were herded off to the exercise yard, where very few of them exercised, due to the drizzle, and freezing weather.

Stuffing his hands inside his sleeves, Logan stood against the wall, observing. He'd learnt a lot by looking; he knew who to avoid, and when to step back. His cellmate, Mitch, wasn't too bad, despite his arrest for armed robbery.

“They could at least give us a football,” came a voice to his left, and Logan saw Mitch standing next to him. Mitch was much taller than him, despite being only two years older, and his dark beard was growing out nicely from the stubble he usually kept it as.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “They want us to keep busy, don't they? Well, why don't they give us stuff?”

“Because they're sadists; they love to watch us suffer,” said Mitch, ad Logan nodded vigorously. Mitch reached into his pocket, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to Logan, who accepted. They smoked companionably for a while, watching the other boys, some gathered in huddles, no doubt trading goods, others running laps in order to warm up.

It was Mitch who had introduced Logan to smoking; the blonde had been there barely a week when he finally gave in and tried one. It was disgusting, but it was something to do. It made him feel less stressed, and so he continued.

Logan could not wait to get back inside, and for the few mandatory hours of schooling to be over, so that he could spend his free time doing something useful.

The only thing Logan hated more than prison school was prison work. Apart from doing ridiculous girlie jobs like sewing, and doing laundry, he was also required to do landscaping.

At that moment, he was pushing a wheelbarrow full of compost from one side of the yard to the other, and he paused to roll up his sleeves. When he'd deposited it, he went to the shed to grab one of the many huge bags of mulch to place around the flowerbeds. He scowled as he heaved the bag up in his arms, and made his way across the grounds. Why was he doing this? What good could planting flowers be for him? How would this help him?

Logan walked along the bank by the wall, resisting the urge to trample the pansies and peonies.

 _'I thought prison was supposed to teach life skills,'_ he thought. _'I'm not going to be a gardener!'_ If he had his way, he would be learning how to fix cars, or computers or _something_ that would be useful to him when got out of this hellhole.

Due to the heavy bag, and the fact that he was not looking where he was going, he ended up tripping over a small pothole, and falling flat on his face.

His pride bruised, his face burning, Logan got to his feet, and resumed his duties as the inmates sniggered.

When leisure time eventually rolled around that afternoon, Logan quickly headed back to his cell. Making sure no one was around, he quickly emptied his hidey-holes. Cigarettes, postage stamps, ramen noodles, and chili powder were concealed in various places around his room. Hiding a few of each item on his person, Logan left his cell, and entered the common room, a large, cold-looking place. Guards were stationed here and there, sharp eyes watching, and the inmates were clustered about the room. Many of them were playing cards, playing for prepaid phone cards, and other such luxuries. Other prisoners were outside, and some were resting in their cells.

He waited for a while, before approaching a small group playing a card game.

“Good game?” he asked, trying not to falter under the hard stare of the 24-year-old seated directly in front of him. Connor was perhaps the most notorious inmate, due to his colourful past. Logan couldn't remember if it was his 11th or 12th time being incarcerated, but he knew that the young man had not been charged with simple, petty crimes.

“Whaddya got??”

“I got stuff,” Logan shrugged casually, taking a seat. “What about you?” Connor raised an eyebrow.

“You're not in a position to bargain.” Logan straightened up slightly. Another thing he'd learnt was to not be a pushover, but also to not act like he was important. There was a fine line to tread.

“I'm just trying to make a deal, that's all.”

“I don't appreciate you butting in on our game, _Bush._ ”

“Hey, man, I'm just looking for some trade,” Logan held up his hands casually.

“We don't want it,” said another inmate, Chris, and Logan felt his temper rising, but he fought to keep it under control.

“I was talking to Connor,” he said pointedly, but this made Chris even angrier.

“Hey, you wanna go?” he raised his voice slightly, as he stood. Now, everyone within earshot was watching.

“Oh, come on, he's not going to hurt _you,_ ” one inmate sneered. “You're not a little girl!” Logan flushed as the occupants laughed, but he neither said nor did nothing. After the second time he'd been beaten up, he'd learnt to keep his mouth shut. Logan might not be Albert Einstein, but he knew the correlation between a bad attitude and getting jumped.

He focused on his contraband, quite possibly the only thing that could earn him some respect.

“I've got noodles, and stamps,” he said calmly, patting his jogging bottoms.

“Man, you really gotta learn to keep your head down,” said Mitch later that evening, when they were back in their cell.

“What? I made the trade, didn't I?”

“Yeah, but you almost got your ass beat. Again. I don't know how many times I have to tell you; they don't like people who hurt kids in here.”

“I didn't hurt her! She only got hurt when she landed at the bottom!” He hesitated as Mitch stared at him, setting his jaw. “Anyway,” he continued calmly, “if they don't like people who hurt kids, then why are you friends with me?”

“Because I think you got potential. But let me say this; pretty much everyone here has a sister. If that kid was _my_ sister – you wouldn't have lasted your first hour here.” The tone in his voice let Logan know that Mitch was absolutely serious. “Anyway, I need you to do something for me.”

“What?”

“They're gonna start doing random drug tests this week, and I need you to pee in a jar for me.”

“What?”

“If you do it, I'll tell some of the guys to ease up on you.”

“Alright, fine.” It was an easy decision, Logan thought, especially if it meant that his time there would be a little less stressful for him. “Drugs, though? Where did you even get them?”

“I got a guy,” was all Mitch said. For a moment, they both sat there silently.

“How come they're starting these drug tests now?”

“I don't know; trying to catch us out, I guess.”

“Just what I need; more accusations. As if my life isn't bad enough.” Mitch leaned forward and gave him a quick slap to the back of the head.

“I honestly don't know what goes through your head sometimes, man! Just accept the fact that you gotta pay for what you did.”

“But it was just an accident!”

“That accident almost killed someone.” Mitch might not have been a saint; but he had a four-year-old sister, and despite him hating his parents, he loved her fiercely. If anyone harmed one hair on her head, he didn't know what he would do. That was why he was trying to behave, notwithstanding the drugs, because he hoped to get released early, and then he could see her.

“Yeah, and she's free to live her life, while I get to suffer every day in here for the next five years. Her suffering's over.” Shaking his head, Mitch smacked Logan upside the head once again.

* * *

Louise awoke with a start, and sat up, panting slightly. Switching on her lamp, she grabbed Kuchi Kopi and held him tightly. She reached under her pillow, pulling out her dream notepad, and quickly began writing.

_The drilling had stopped, and Louise wondered if they had reached her._

“ _Louise!” someone called down to her; it was one of those two voices who had been constantly talking to her, and she looked up. “We've got bad news; the machine broke.”_

“ _What?!”_

“ _The digging machine broke, and we can't get to you.” Louise's heart was racing._

“ _Get another machine! Don't leave me in here!”_

“ _Well, Louise, the problem is, that was the only machine in New Jersey. We could call for another one, but would take days to get here.”_

“ _Get it! Get it, you have to!”_

“ _If we can get it, we will, but I can't guarantee anything.”_

“ _I'm stuck in a well; I have to get out!” She was beginning to panic now._

“ _I'm sorry, Louise. We tried to save you. We'll get you some food and drink.”_

“ _I don't want food and drink; I wanna get out! Please get me out!” She screamed, her heart almost bursting out of her chest._

“ _Louise, we did our best. We will call for the new machine, but it probably won't get here in time. All we can do for you now is make you comfortable.” Louise's eyes widened as she realised the implications._

“ _You can't leave me to die in here!” she screeched. “You have to get me out!”_

“ _We're not going to leave you,” he told her. “We'll get you some food.”_

“ _No! No, no!” Louise's cries fell on deaf ears, as the man walked off, and she was left alone._

Shivering slightly, Louise stopped writing and grabbed her dream interpreting book, needing to focus on something. She couldn't seem to find anything relating to that particular dream; the closest thing was 'abandonment.' According to the book, she either needed to let go of something in her life, or she needed to “look right inside yourself,” and to “stop for a moment and re-evaluate your life based on the activities and events which surround you at the moment.”

She rested her chin in her hands; this wasn't going to go away. It was going to keep building up, getting worse and worse, until... Well, she didn't know what would happen. She had to do something, but she didn't know what.

Louise lay back down and cuddled Kuchi Kopi. The feel of the cool vinyl against her cheek soothed her. No one would ever know just how big a comfort he was to her during those long hours down in the well. He was the one she talked to the most; they had many long conversations without opening their mouths. It was just the way they communicated; they'd always done it. He even had the exact same personality as Melted Kuchi Kopi, which made things so much easier.

He would reassure her, and tell her she was going to be okay. He'd tell her to get some sleep, even when she didn't want to.

“But what if I die? I don't want to sleep,” she'd confided, and Kuchi had promised to wake her up, and he did. He always kept his word; Louise respected that about him. That was what she'd dreamed about when she was trapped; being left to die. It had made it very difficult to sleep; if they'd thought she was dead, then they would just give up and leave her in there. It wasn't something she liked to think about.

Kuchi helped to keep her spirits up, and encouraged her to hang on. He kept her from getting too panicked (although it didn't always work, at least he tried.), and he distracted her, by talking to her, telling her stories about his world.

She would be forever grateful to her mother for putting him down there with her. (Not that she'd ever admit it.)

“ _What do I do, Kuchi?”_ she asked, using their special, secret way of communicating.

“ _There is only one thing you can do, Louise.”_

“ _What?”_

“ _Talk about it.”_

“ _I can't. The words won't come out; it's like they're stuck inside my head.”_

“ _Do you think more writing about it would help?”_ Louise paused.

“ _Maybe. Writing my dreams doesn't help, though. It doesn't make them stop.”_

“ _What you need to do is to find another way of dealing with it. If you don't want to talk about it, and I think you should, then you need to come to terms with it.”_

“ _I have!”_

“ _No, you haven't. Once you accept what happened, then you can start to move on. When you next have therapy, try to talk about it.”_

“ _All right; you win. I'll try something tomorrow. My therapist gave me an idea.”_

With that, Louise switched off her lamp and closed her eyes.

The following evening, the family, bar Louise, were in the living room, getting ready to watch a movie.

“I'll see if Louise wants to join us this time,” said Bob, as he stood, and walked down the hallway. He did get worried at her being by herself all the time, and he believed that if she was with her family, she might start feeling better.

As he approached her room, he noticed that the door was slightly ajar, and he heard her muttering. He paused, trying to listen.

“What do you want?” he heard her say quietly, and he prepared to apologise for eavesdropping.

But when he pushed the door open just a little bit, he found her sitting on the floor with her back to him, playing with her toys. She was holding Kuchi Kopi, making him stand on the bed, while her toy bear with the sharp, jagged teeth was in her other hand. “Get outta my way,” she murmured, making Kuchi Kopi speak to the bear, which came closer. “I'll teach you not to mess with me,” she lowered her voice, and made the bear slam into Kuchi, before deliberately dropping the night light onto the floor, and rolling it under the bed. The bear began to run away, but not before one of her other toys (a new one; Bob couldn't remember who'd given it to her) body-slammed it.

Bob pressed a hand over his mouth as he realised what she was doing. After he'd composed himself, he knocked on her door, waiting.

“Louise?”

“What is it?” When he entered, she was sitting on her bed, reading a manga.

“We're just about to watch a movie; wanna join us?”

“I'm good,” she returned her attention to her manga.

“Are you sure? It's a good one; “Terminator.”

“I'm good,” she repeated.

“Okay,” Bob nodded. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where we are.”

“Whatever.”

* * *

Later on in the week, Louise was back in her therapist's office. She'd been thinking a lot about what Kuchi Kopi had said to her, about talking. She still wasn't too sure about it, but she kind of wanted to try. Then, when it didn't work (she knew it wouldn't), she could work on another way of making the bad dreams and thoughts go away.

At that moment, she was colouring, but she wasn't really focused on what she was doing.

“I don't get it!” she snapped suddenly, throwing her pen down.

“Don't get what?” asked Hannah, who shifted closely. Louise clenched her fists.

“Why everything is so...” she could only wave her arms in frustration.

“So difficult?” she finished, and Louise nodded. “I know you're still struggling, and that's okay. But I think the reason why everything is still affecting you is because you don't want to deal with it.”

“I _am_ dealing with it!” she exclaimed. “I'm dealing with it by writing! That should be enough! So, why haven't these stupid nightmares stopped?”

“Writing is a very useful tool,” Hannah agreed, “but actually acknowledging out loud what happened is a great first step.” Louise did not say anything, and so she continued. “You're always going to remember what happened to you, and it's a part of who you are now.”

“I don't want that.”

“You can't change the past,” said Hannah gently, “but you can act on the future.” Louise didn't know what to say to that; she picked up another pen, twiddling it between her fingers. She stared at the book, her mouth firmly set. “I know how hard it is to talk,” Hannah said, angering Louise.

“What do you know? You don't know anything!”

“Talking about trauma can be hard to do.”

“There's no point because no one can ever understand!” Louise fumed.

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because this hasn't happened to anyone else! It's not like there's a book on how to deal with it!”

“You are dealing with it quite well,” said Hannah truthfully, “you just need to take a little time to really come to terms with it. Unfortunately, that means talking about it.”

“I don't want to.”

“I know you don't, and I won't force you, but things will get better once you do. That first step can be very hard, but you've got to push yourself. Once you get over that first hurdle, the rest will be easier.” Louise mulled it over.

“What if I never want to talk about it?”

“I couldn't say, but I can definitely see that you've improved whenever you've told me what's bothering you. Will you try?” Again, Louise thought about it, weighing up her choices.

“Maybe.”

* * *

Back at Bog Harbour State Penitentiary, the inmates, Logan among them, made their way to the visitors' area. Logan didn't know why he had to be there; Cynthia had called him the previous evening, saying that neither she nor Tom would be able to visit him. He never found out the reason, as he'd angrily hung up on her.

“Right, Bush, you actually have a visitor,” the guard pointed to the table on the far right. Logan did a double-take when he saw none other than Bob Belcher sitting there, watching him. He wondered if the guards would get to him in time if Bob decided to attack. The teen made to turn around, but was stopped by the guard. “Go on,” he nudged him toward the table.

Logan slowly made his way over to the restaurateur, wishing he were anywhere else. He sat down at the table, surveying the man in front of him, who looked rather tired and angry, even more so than usual.

“Logan,” Bob nodded. Logan nodded in return but did not say anything.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“I want answers.” That confused Logan.

“Answers for what?” Bob shook his head slightly.

“Why do you hate my daughter?”

“She's the one who hates me,” Logan muttered.

“Well, why don't you tell me what happened? From what I've heard, you started it.”

“I didn't start anything.”

“Why couldn't you have just let them walk through?”

“Why didn't they walk around?” Bob sighed.

“Oh, my God. I don't get you. Why did you keep on annoying her? Why didn't you just leave her alone?”

“She started it; she annoys me!”

“She was nine,” said Bob, in shock. “She can be a handful, I know, but you were, what, fifteen? Why didn't you just walk away?”

“She's not the type to just let you walk away!” Logan seethed.

“Okay, fair enough; I get that,” Bob saw his point. “But you're older; what could you get out of bullying a little kid?”

“You didn't seem to care when you let me work in your restaurant,” Logan sneered, and Bob looked extremely guilty.

“Okay, that was bad. But, I was a little preoccupied, and I didn't know what was going on. But still, you shouldn't have treated her the way you did.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want an apology. I want you to feel some shred of remorse for what you put my daughter through.”

“I think me being stuck in here is apology enough, don't you?”

“You haven't actually said you're sorry.”

“I did, back on that first night.”

“We both know you didn't mean it. Look, imagine that it wasn't Louise. Imagine it was some other kid stuck in that well, wouldn't you feel bad?”

“I guess,” Logan shifted uncomfortably. Bob just stared at him, before trying a different tactic.

“She's still in therapy, you know,” he said quietly, trying to appeal to the part of Logan that had a conscience. “It's been a year, and she still has nightmares, all the time. She's got depression, and anxiety, she's covered in permanent scars. She's physically and mentally scarred for life; she's still suffering.” He hoped that the teen would begin to understand. He just wanted a sincere apology.

“Well, so am I; I have to suffer for the next five years.” Bob sighed again.

“One year for each day she was trapped; seems fair to me,” he shrugged. Each day had probably felt like a year to Louise, anyway; it certainly did for him. Logan's eyes blazed with fury. Bob again changed tactic and pulled some photos from his pocket. Spreading them out, he pointed to the first one, a picture of Louise after she had been brought up. “See how her face is grey? That's not the light; her body had to shut down blood vessels to her face, arms, and legs to keep her heart pumping. Just to keep her alive, to keep her heart beating.” He pointed to another photo. “See her arms and legs, see they're black? That's not mud and dirt; that's lack of blood. They thought they'd have to amputate her arms and legs.” He looked a deep breath and looked intensely at Logan, noticing how, for the first time, the boy appeared to be absorbing what he was hearing. “When she was in the emergency room, they thought she was going to die on the table. Her pulse was so weak.” He paused, blinking away tears. “I freak out when she runs around or stuff like that; I'm terrified she's going to have a heart attack. I get up four to five times a night to make sure she's still breathing. The stress is wearing me out.” Logan was staring at him.

“I didn't know it was that close,” he said slowly. Bob resisted the urge to chastise him for not listening in court; they were making progress.

“Look, I know it was an accident, but she came very close to dying. I just want a proper apology; for you to understand how serious it was, that's all.” They both stared at each other, Bob's eyes pleading, Logan's jaw set.

“... I'm sorry,” said Logan, after the longest time. “I'm sorry for what I did.” Bob was speechless. He never would have thought Logan would do it. Bob guessed he was finally maturing.

“Thank you,” he nodded, rose from his chair, and left the room.

* * *

Bob decided to not keep quiet about his visit to Logan; after all, he did promise Louise to not lie to her any more. He came out and told them that night at the dinner table.

“I can't believe he actually apologised,” Linda had said, looking as shocked as Bob had felt.

“He was lying,” Louise looked bored, pushing her food around on her place.

“He seemed sincere,” said Bob. “I think he was actually sorry.”

“Nah; that would never happen,” Louise insisted.

“Well, at least he apologised; that's something,” Bob shrugged.

“He's up to something,” said Louise. “Probably trying to get let out early, gain your trust, let your guard down, and then BOOM!”

“They're not going to let him out early,” Linda assured her. “Even if they did, he's not allowed to come near you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I thought you'd wanna know.”

“Well, I know that he's planning on something. Why else would he apologise?”

“I really believe that he feels bad now,” said Bob.

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Louise patted her father's arm. “You really don't know anything, do you?”

“Well, either way, he said sorry, he's in jail. I think we should just move on.. from that,” said Bob.

“That's the first smart thing I've ever heard you say.”

“Thanks, Louise,” Bob resumed eating.

A few days later, the Belcher kids were sat in the cafeteria, eating lunch.

“Right, sibs, I'll see you later; I've got somewhere to be,” Louise pushed her tray aside and stood. Gene and Tina looked at one another.

“Where are you going?” asked Tina, watching as Louise pulled her perma-pass from her backpack. Just in case.

“That's for me to know.”

“Do you need us to come with you?” Gene asked as they walked through the hallway.

“No; it's not your business.”

“What is it?” Tina wondered if her little sister was cooking up some nefarious scheme.

“Something important that needs to be done, and that's all you need to know.” Louise turned to find her older siblings staring at her apprehensively. “It's nothing bad,” she assured them, rolling her eyes. “Don't you trust me?” Tina and Gene exchanged glances, Tina groaning.

“It's not that we don't trust you,” she began slowly. “But you don't usually keep things from us.” They knew better than to question Louise, but Tina was right; she had always involved them in her plans.

“It's just something I need to do. I'll be back here by home time. I promise,” she added, before turning and heading out of the school.

“She really means it,” Gene said, and Tina agreed. Louise did not break promises if she could help it (or if it benefited her to do so.)

“Wonder what she's going to do?” Tina mused, looking through the closed doors. Gene shrugged.

“Who knows?” They would probably never understand what went on in their little sister's head. Still, they supposed she had good reason for doing whatever it was she was about to do.

Louise walked down the street, her mind focused on nothing except where she was going. If anyone gave her a second glance, she didn't notice. She walked directly in the middle of the path, moving for no one, staring determinedly ahead.

Sure, she could have taken the bus, but she was supposed to be in school. Not that she cared about skipping, but she didn't want to arouse suspicion, and she certainly didn't want anyone to find out where she was heading.

She had soon enough reached her destination, and she did not hesitate to enter Wharf Park, knowing where she needed to go. She felt glad that there were not many people there.

Eventually, she came upon a little steel lid, welded tightly into the ground.

Louise sat down in front of the well and crossed her legs, and resting her chin on her fists. She was going to pay when she would try to stand later, but there were no chairs. If she got up slowly, it wouldn't hurt so much.

She didn't know how long she sat there, staring at it. It still didn't seem all that real. She frowned slightly as she observed it. It looked so small; how did she manage to get in there?

Louise placed her hands on either side of the well, effectively cupping it. Lifting her hands, she placed them at her waist. To her dismay, there was room to spare, and she again rested her head on her hands.

It was the first time she'd ever seen the well in real life, she realised. Of course, she hadn't noticed it on that day, and when she'd gotten revenge on Logan, they'd been on the other side of the park. How come it looked different in the pictures?

She reached out once again, and placed her hand on the cool steel, wondering how sturdy it was. She leaned right over the well, almost holding her breath, waiting for the lid to crumble and give way, but it didn't. If she decided to jump on it (not that she would), would it give way? But then she remembered, it had been filled up to the very top with cement, so there was little chance of her falling in again. Still, she kept one hand firmly on the ground beside her, just in case.

This was that final piece of proof that it had really happened, along with the concrete circle a few feet away.

 _'I was in there,'_ Louise thought, eyeing the well. _'I was stuck in there.'_ She looked around at the park, trying to imagine it filled with hundreds of people, machines, lights, and equipment. It still felt good when she thought about how the whole of Seymour's Bay worked to save her. No, all of New Jersey. Wait, everyone in America worked to save her. Her; Louise Belcher. She supposed they couldn't leave their future ruler in a well. She wouldn't be able to reign supreme from in there. Just as soon as she was back to feeling 100 % herself, she could resume putting those plans in motion.

Louise hoped that moment would come soon; she'd been feeling better over the past few months, and she couldn't wait to feel like Louise again. She'd noted that her mood had lifted when they went to Japan, so obviously the only option was to go back to Japan. It really was best for everyone.

Nodding to herself, Louise resumed staring at the well.

True to her word, Louise was back at school in time for the final bell, and met up with Gene and Tina at Gene's locker.

“Did you do whatever you needed to do?” asked Tina, as they left school and headed for home.

“Yep,” was all Louise said. They remained silent on the subject, and continued their journey. Louise did not give even a minute hint as to what she had been up to, until that night when they were sent to bed.

She stretched, waiting for her brother and sister to leave the room before she stood. “Mom, Dad,” she stood directly in front of them, as they rearranged themselves on the sofa.

“What, sweetie?”

“I fell down a well,” she said matter-of-factly. Her parents looked at one another.

“That's right,” said Bob.

“Well, I was pushed, but let's not get picky.”

“Yes, we know,” Linda's eyes were brimming.

“You shouldn't deny these things, you know,” Louise told them, before heading off to her room.

Bob and Linda waited until she was gone, before they broke into the biggest grins and hugged tightly.

“She did it!” Bob whispered triumphantly. It was the breakthrough they'd been waiting for for months; she'd finally accepted what had happened to her.

“Oh, I'm so proud of my baby!” Linda wiped her wet face.

“Me, too.” Bob leaned back, smiling. Now, Louise just needed to come to terms with her body, but they were in no rush for that. She'd made a huge hurdle, and they couldn't ask for more.

Louise stood in her bedroom, surveying it. She looked at all of her new toys, and other gifts she had received. The three-foot plush shark from Teddy resided at the end of her bed, its open-mouthed face pointing at the door, ready to eat any intruders. The huge card Patrick and Simon had given her was resting behind her chest of drawers. The rest of her toys were arranged on her bookshelf. They made her already small room look cramped, but she didn't really mind.

She'd kept her ankle cast, tightly sealed in two plastic bags, mainly because of all the signatures on it. One of these days, she was going to spring it on Regular-sized Rudy. She would make a bet; what was worse: seven weeks of unwashed Rudy arm, or eight weeks of unwashed Louise foot? She would win. Of course she would. Her cast was on for longer, plus she'd kept hers around for much longer than Rudy did. There was no way she could lose. She was going to bet, fifty, maybe one hundred dollars.

On the little step at the bottom of her night stand was a photo album; it had been one of her Christmas presents from Linda. It was filled with pictures from the Japan trip. Louise sometimes liked to look through it before she went to sleep.

Pulling on her pyjamas, she switched off the light and climbed into bed. A thought striking her, she reached under her pillow, pulling out her writing notepad. Rifling through the pages, she saw that her writing appeared to be more coherent, as if her thoughts were more organised. Placing the book back, she got her dream notepad, and quickly flipped to the last couple of pages. The nightmares were slowly becoming less frequent, now perhaps once a week, instead of three or four. They were still a bit of a jumble; she supposed it was because dreams rarely made sense anyway, but she deeply hoped, that in time, they would stop.

Settling down into her bed, she grabbed Kuchi Kopi. She felt different now that she had admitted what had happened to her aloud; properly acknowledged it. She didn't feel any better, like she hoped, but she just felt different.

“I did it, Kuchi,” she told him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done!  
> I had no idea it was going to be this long. Whoops!  
> We've got one more chapter to go.  
> Originally, I wasn't going to have Logan or Cynthia in this chapter; I thought they'd served their purpose. But, I got to thinking, and I thought that seeing Logan in prison would be a nice touch.  
> I thought I should make him grow a little bit for apologising for what he did.  
> What did you think? I'd love to know!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! This is it; the very last chapter.  
> I just want to thank everyone who commented, left kudos, bookmarked, and just plain read it! Your support means everything to me, and I'm so appreciative of all of you :)

A Cry in the Park

Chapter 16

Nineteen-year-old Louise lay on her bed, her laptop resting on her raised knees.

It was a Saturday night, and her parents were curled up on the sofa, watching the season premiere of “Winthorpe Manor,” which so needed to die already. Bob had said he was just keeping Linda company, but Louise knew that he would soon be singing the theme tune just as loudly as his wife.

Gene, as per usual, was down at the Wharf Arts Centre, where he did part-time temp work, hoping to get a foot in the door, and Tina was in Baltimore, studying creative writing and journalism at college. She actually had a job at the Baltimore Sun newspaper, and spent her free evenings working on her debut novel, hoping to get it published. Louise had to admit, she was impressed; Tina was getting paid to do what she loved.

Louise, still short at 5'3, and still so skinny, no matter what she ate (a trait inherited from her aunt Vanessa, according to Linda), smiled indulgently as her parents' enthusiastic, off-key singing permeated the small apartment. Soon, they would be doing what they thought was rapping and beat-boxing.

Just as she predicted, it came like clockwork, and Louise didn't cover her ears like she usually did. Instead, her smile grew a little bit wider. Sure, they were dorks, but she loved them anyway.

Physically, she hadn't changed much over the years. Her hair had grown to past her shoulders, and she'd replaced her childhood green dress with jeans and colourful T-shirts, leggings and casual button-up shirts. Even now, she couldn't find the time to care about her appearance. Occasionally, when she felt like shocking people, she would get dressed up, and wear some nice clothes, but it was very rare.

She only wore makeup on special occasions, and even then it was powder and mascara. Nothing fancy. She didn't need designer clothes and tonnes of makeup to impress people; she was impressive enough on her own.

Of course, at that moment, she was wearing her bunny ears. Four-year-old Louise had sworn to never take them off, but she was mature now, an adult. Admittedly, she had believed that she would wear them forever, and here she was, slowly weaning herself off them, with a pink beanie that was large enough to cover her ears made of the same material, which was what she had worn during her last year of school. It was getting easier, but she still wasn't ready to go completely bare-headed.

She hated to admit it, but people took her seriously when she didn't have her ears on. If wearing a beanie was what it took to get people to listen to her (brilliant) ideas, then so be it.

Last year, when Tina left, Louise had moved into her room; she loved the space, but it felt a bit weird. She still hadn't gotten used to not seeing it covered in horse posters, and Louise had painted over that awful pink as soon as she could. The walls were now a light green; it looked quite looked quite nice with her yellow furniture. It felt even more weird not having Tina there; it was her room; she should be in it.

Having no desire to watch the latest snore-inducing, contrived plot twist of “Winthorpe Manor,” Louise absent-mindedly scrolled through Facebook. She knew it was for old people, and she rarely, if ever, posted, but it was one of the few social media accounts that her sister had. For some strange reason, Tina posted on Facebook the most, with Twitter a close second. Of course, Louise knew why; Facebook had a higher word count for posts. Tina was too eloquent (on the page) to write short, simple statuses.

Louise frowned slightly; first, Tina had abandoned her and Gene by moving up to Huxley High. Then, Gene had followed suit, leaving Louise alone. She'd spent her last couple of years at school feeling a bit lost. Not lonely, and she _definitely_ didn't miss hanging out with them every day, no sir. Well...

She'd never admit it out loud, but it had felt like a part of her was missing.

Now, Tina was away at college, and her new job, (Louise hadn't seen her since Christmas) and Gene was spending most of his free time at the stupid theatre.

Not that she cared. No. Not at all. All she was waiting for was her dad to officially hand her the keys to the restaurant, and she would turn that place into Seymour's Bay's most popular eatery.

Louise couldn't help but be proud of herself; she'd graduated from Huxley High with good grades, surprising pretty much every around her.

She kind of wanted to go to college, but also, she didn't. One the one hand, what could college really teach her? She was taking over the restaurant, and had been learning the books for more than a year and a half now, so she was prepared.

On the other hand, maybe learning, actually learning some marketing skills could be good?

Louise couldn't decide, and so she was on a sort of gap year, in which she unofficially officially ran the restaurant, getting a proper feel for it. It really was the best kind of work experience. She needed time to see if the cost of going to college was justifiable, especially as all of her compensation money was long gone. Hey, prosthetics were expensive; not to mention the fact she had to replace them as she grew. She knew that her parents had dipped into their savings more than once.

Louise was confident she could run the restaurant. She knew what she was doing; she cooked the food, she cleaned, she bussed tables, and washed dishes; she ordered food, wheedling her way into a small discount from the suppliers. She could run that place in her sleep, and she was able to handle the rushes, especially now that business had picked up. She felt confident that the restaurant would soon earn its' well-deserved reputation as the best diner in Seymour's Bay, especially with her as the boss. Why,

she might even make enough money to send her parents to one of the nice retirement homes.

* * *

A notification drew her from her thoughts; it was a comment on the official “Bob's Burgers” Facebook page, and she clicked on it. A user had left a comment on a picture of that morning's “Burger of the Day”, the Billie Beans is Not My Guava burger (came with green beans and guava) that she had uploaded earlier.

“ _Tried this today; it was delicious! Hope they bring it back!”_ Quickly changing her profile to the page's owner, she liked and replied to the comment, before continuing to scroll through her timeline.

It was Louise who had decided to create their online presence; she'd made social media accounts for the restaurant on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, and she posted every day, keeping their business on people's minds. It was a brilliant idea; more and more people had come than ever before.

A slight frown crossed her face as she spotted a post from the official Seymour's Bay Channel 6 News page. It was one of those annoying “on this day” posts, and she instantly recognised a certain photo of her nine-year-old self. Her mouth twisting, Louise clicked on the photo. She was never going to be allowed to forget this, was she?

 _'On this week in 2019, 9-year-old Louise Belcher was rescued from an abandoned water well, where she had been trapped for 5 days.'_ the caption read.

Before she knew what she was doing, she had clicked on the comments, and began to read them, if only to see, once again, how many people cried when she was saved.

A fond smile crossed her face as she read.

“ _Not ashamed to admit that I sobbed like a baby when they brought her up.”_

“ _I had a daughter the same age, and so I was watching this every day.”_

“ _I was only a kid when this happened! I remember watching her dad freak out.”_

“ _I remember thanking God when they got her out. It was a miracle that she survived for that long”_

One particular comment caught her eye, a response to Maria Nolan's _“the boy who pushed her in was sentenced to 5 years in prison, as well.”_ and the comment that interested her was _“5 years? Just for pushing someone down a well? That seems harsh?”_

Louise was pleased to note that most of the reactions were angry ones, and she clicked on the replies.

“ _It's not just for pushing her down a well. It was because he'd been bullying her, he tried to hurt her. She was stuck in there for 5 days. She had so many injuries that she was in hospital for 2 months. When you realise all she went through, and the fact that he still tried to hurt her after she came home (her dad had to get a restraining order) then 5 years seems fair!”_ which was posted by a Gina Berfield.

She never knew what had become of Logan. He'd been released when he was 21, but that was all she knew.

The entire Bush family appeared to have disappeared. They had more than likely moved, but Louise preferred to imagine that they had been run out of town. It just made sense; he was a dangerous, violent criminal, and she was a narcissistic enabler. Of course, the good people of Seymour's Bay wouldn't want them around; they wouldn't want Logan terrorising their children every day. It really was better for everyone that they were gone.

The most embarrassing part about that was that she had gone through her life with people thinking that she was some sort of victim. Which she wasn't; she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Whether her restraining order still stood, she didn't know, but as long as he kept away from her, and didn't try to contact her in any way, then she really didn't care enough to find out.

Immediately eating her words, Louise was on Google, trying to find out. Hey, she was curious, that was all. She was allowed to be curious.

Soon enough, an article caught her eye, and she began to read.

“ _5 years after her dramatic rescue from an abandoned water well, Louise Belcher still walks with a slight limp. The limp is the result of the badly broken ankle she sustained after being pushed into the 14-inch wide well._

_Louise, now a vivacious 14-year-old 9 th grader, gave a rare, brief interview, along with her parents, Bob and Linda._

“ _She's just a normal girl,” said Bob. “You know, she likes puppies, and going to the movies, and stuff like that.” Linda keeps scrapbooks of news clippings from their daughter's rescue, but they don't speak of the incident unless Louise brings it up._

“ _I don't need to speak about it,” says Louise. “They know what happened.” The ordeal seems to have affected the parents more than Louise, who grows bored when the rescue is brought up._

_Linda, however, fights back tears as she recalls the moment she found out her then 9-year-old daughter was trapped in a well._

“ _It was the worst feeling ever,” she reveals, tears in her eyes. “I was so scared.”_

_The Belcher parents allowed Louise to make her own decisions on speaking to the press, and this will mark her fourth time speaking to reporters._

“ _We didn't want to force her,” said Bob._

_Louise, by no means shy, and very comfortable in front of the camera, doesn't see the point._

“ _People already know what happened, so there's no need to keep bringing it up,” she shrugs. However, she agreed to this interview because, “it's been 5 years; sometimes, it doesn't seem real.” She shrugs again, the ears of her pink bunny hat jolting._

_It was that very hat that inadvertently caused her to end up in the well. In 2019, Louise was 9 years old when she first met Logan Bush, a 15-year-old, who was in therapy for anger problems._

“Blah, blah, blah,” Louise muttered to herself, skimming the article, looking for any clues.

_After 114 hours, Louise emerged in the arms of a paramedic, dehydrated, bruised, and clinging to life._

_She spent 2 months in hospital, recovering from blood poisoning, circulation problems, and kidney failure. Louise underwent multiple surgeries, including skin grafts and fasciotomies._

_When their daughter had been discharged, Bob and Linda pressed charges against Logan. He was eventually sentenced to 5 years in prison for aggravated assault and battery, and was ordered to pay $10,000 compensation._

_Louise is not worried about his release._

“ _He won't come near me.” The restraining order Bob got to protect his daughter is still valid. Bob then revealed that he would continue to get it renewed whenever it runs out, stating that his child's safety comes first._

“ _I did what I had to do; nothing is more important than keeping my kids' safe.” ”_

She nodded in satisfaction. So, at least if Logan decided to come back, she would be okay. She really did hope he would stay away; nothing good ever happened around him. He even haunted her nightmares; although she had not had a “well” nightmare for a few years, on the occasion she did, Logan Bush was sure to feature in it.

A kind of compulsion overtaking her, Louise exited the page, and went back on Google. She was confronted with photos, videos, and articles, all dedicated to her, and a “10 years later” blog post caught her eye. She hadn't spoken to the press since she was fourteen, and so her curiosity was piqued. Even though a ten-year anniversary, especially the anniversary of her rescue, was a big deal, she'd not given any interviews. Louise felt that she had spoken about it enough times, and there were plenty of other people that reporters could talk to if they were so desperate for a story.

She clicked on it and began reading.

“ _10 years ago, an event mesmerized the country and brought out some of the best in human kindness. A nine-year-old girl, Louise Belcher, became trapped in an abandoned well, 80 feet underground. It captivated the nation, with reporters from all over New Jersey scrambling to the scene._

_Why was this story so publicised? Children, unfortunately, fall into wells more often than they should, so what made this particular story so riveting?_

_The simple fact is because the accident was not Louise's fault. She was pushed into the well by a teenage boy. It sent shock waves through Louise's home town of Seymour's Bay, just outside of Bog Harbour, because people just couldn't believe what had happened, and what had been happening._

_Logan Bush, a fifteen-year-old, who was in counselling for anger issues, had been bullying Louise for around a year. In the months before the push that changed her life, he'd twice tried to physically hurt her; wanting to do a wrestling move on her, and trying to throw ice-filled snowballs in her face._

_When Logan bumped into Louise on February 22 nd, 2019, he pushed her, and Louise fell into the uncovered well, where she would remain for the next 5 days, buried chest-deep in rubble, before being rescued._

_The reason this story resonated with so many people, was because of the realisation that it could have been anyone's kid. If Logan hadn't targeted Louise, he would have picked on some other child, and they might not have been as lucky as she was._

_Louise was pulled from the well after 114 hours, to the cheers of the more than 200 volunteers who worked to get her out. She spent two months in hospital. Her ankle was broken, her tail bone was fractured, her limbs were black with lack of blood flow. She was so dehydrated her kidneys were shutting down, and she had hypothermia, and blood poisoning. She was, at least for a while, the most famous person in New Jersey._

_Many viewers looked upon Louise as their own child, and it was easy for them to imagine their own kid in that dangerous situation. That's why so many took this to heart._

_I wasn't able to find out much about Louise after the rescue; the family kept very quiet (as is their right), but I did find out that Logan was charged with assault, and jailed for 5 years, and that Louise recovered from her injuries, and returned to school, graduating a few months before she turned 18.”_ Louise frowned; how did they know that? This level of snooping wasn't acceptable, unless it was by her. _“But she has lived a quiet life and doesn't wish to be known as the girl in the well. Fair play to her. It does make you think, though; in just a few seconds, her life changed in an instant. One little push, and her life was never the same again.”_

Louise closed the laptop. One push changed her life. But it hadn't, though, really, had it? She'd lived a normal life; she'd done everything she used to before the incident. Nothing had changed; she went to school, she worked, she played with her friends.

Louise tapped a little tune on the laptop, looking around her room. Okay, her life had changed, but had it _changed_?

If she'd never gotten pushed, would she still be the same person? How would her life have been different?

Louise could now admit that she'd spent most of her pre-teen and teenage years in a state of almost perpetual rage. In and out of therapy, feeling like she was constantly switching medications, she'd been angry at everything and everyone. Terrible mood swings, lashing out at people (sometimes physically), withdrawing from everyone; now that she was a grown-up, she felt bad for her family during those times. She would punch walls, throw things, lock herself in her room for hours on end. At her worst, she'd smashed a few of Linda's Porcelain Babies, and she'd been overwhelmed by rage-filled crying fits.

She'd hated Logan for pushing her in. She'd hated the police for lying to her, and she'd hated the rescue workers for taking so long. She'd hated her father for sending her out. She'd hated herself for not reacting sooner.

It wasn't until she was about fifteen that she'd learned to get rid of all the rage and hatred inside of her. Well, most of it. It took her therapist (her fifth or sixth one) being blunt to her.

“ _Well, they could have gone faster!” she snapped, throwing the book across the room. “They could have; we all know it! If they hadn't been so stupid, I might have been okay! No amputations or stuff!”_

“ _Louise -”_

“ _They were useless!” she screeched._

“ _Louise,” her therapist said firmly. “If they had gone quicker, or dug the tunnel closer, you would have died. There would have been another cave-in, and you would have been buried alive, and suffocated. It took a while, but they got you out.” And something seemed to click in her brain, and Louise finally understood. And she was alive._

She had spent these last few years feeling much better than she had since she was nine. It had been a long, arduous process, but she'd managed it. Louise had even apologised to her family, sincerely. It had been difficult, one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do, but it had needed to be done. As such, they'd been a closer family unit, not unlike they were when she was younger.

Louise still had bad days; sometimes bad weeks, but she'd already hit rock bottom, and was determined not to go back there again.

She could even remember the first time she made a joke about the whole thing.

“ _Ooh, I wanna see this movie!” Linda gasped, pointing excitedly at the television, where an advert for a murder mystery was showing. “They're saying it'll really keep you on your toes.”_

“ _Wow, insensitive, Mom,” Louise said lightly, her eyebrows raised a bit. Linda looked at her daughter in shock, but she saw the faint smile on Louise's face._

“ _Good one!” she laughed, and they all ended up having a good laugh._

* * *

She'd come to terms with her amputations; she didn't love them, but she'd long accepted them. And that was good enough. She was incredibly lucky; she knew that now. She could have lost her feet, or her legs. Or even her fingers, or hands. Louise had had to give her therapist credit; Anne knew how to make her think, and how to help Louise accept herself.

All things considering, Louise now knew that to have gone through what she did, and only have her toes amputated (scars notwithstanding), was nothing short of remarkable. And her learning to accept her new body, had helped to improve her mental health tremendously.

But apart from that, her life had been pretty normal. She did everything she had done before, even competing in the mandatory mile run when she was twelve. Okay, she jogged half, and walked the rest, but still, it was a great achievement for her, and should be celebrated as such.

Still, Louise had to wonder if she would have become a more social person were it not for the incident (which was how she referred to it). Sure, she went to parties, but she didn't really enjoy them; full of people she didn't like dancing badly to terrible music. The same reason she chose not to go to her prom. But she'd never really liked parties, even as a child. The forced socialising drove her crazy; the only thing good about parties was the free food.

But still, when she didn't feel like working, she would go to parties, and have one or two drinks, but wouldn't get drunk; even now, she was the same. She preferred to be in control of herself. Plus, drunk people were easier to manipulate.

Occasionally, she would have moments of self-loathing, of hating her scars, her feet, but they were becoming few and far between. She had only recently, a few years ago, gotten up the courage to walk around barefoot, with just her prosthetics on. Only at home, though; she still wasn't ready to reveal them to anyone else.

The scars on her arms and legs had faded so much that they were practically invisible, leaving Louise ecstatic. No more long sleeves! No more make up! They could only really be seen if you looked carefully.

But in each life, a little rain must fall. The scars on her back were still very much visible, along with the ones on her thighs, bottom and stomach.

Unfortunately, this meant no halter necks or crop tops, and only tankinis with shorts at the beach. Flip-flops were a no-go, as was swimming, at least until she got some pool shoes.

Louise wondered if, subconsciously, this was the reason that she didn't allow anyone to get close to her. She'd gone on dates, and kissed boys, but that was it; she never went any further. She didn't really see the point of the whole thing.

She wasn't vain; Louise just knew she wasn't prepared to see their disgusted looks when they saw her scars. Teens were cruel; she'd had some experience with that, and she just didn't want everyone to know that she still had scars. And what was wrong with that?

Mostly, people left her alone, which she was glad of. The people who knew her, who had gone through school with her, had the sense to not bring it up. And those that didn't know, quickly learned.

As she grew up, strangers gradually began recognising her less and less, despite the bunny ears, and now, she only got attention when the anniversary rolled around.

Still, people were supportive. Especially Regular-sized Rudy, who she had gone on a couple of not-dates with, out of convenience. What could she say? She liked being around him, though she never told him that. But he treated her normally, as she did him. They had a mutual understanding. Besides, it was a way to get people off their backs in school, as apparently, if you didn't date, then there _must_ be something wrong with you. So, she and Rudy had come to the agreement together to pretend-date, just so that people would leave them alone, and they would have peace of mind. It wasn't all bad; all they did was hold hands (which made her stomach feel floaty) while walking down the corridors, and they ate lunch together. Nothing special, but it was enough to placate others.

She was still annoyed that he had grown four inches taller than her. It was bad enough being the shortest person in her class, but how dare Rudy have the audacity to carry on growing after she had finished? Honestly, it was just rude.

* * *

When Louise had turned sixteen, she'd gotten a letter from a local doctor, who had offered to cover up her scars for free, and she hadn't been too sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, yes please; she would finally look normal.

On the other hand, she'd spent longer with these scars than she had without them, which was weird to think about. Even now, she couldn't decide whether to go through with it or not. She still had the letter, tucked safely somewhere only she knew.

Some days, she would look at her scars, and realise they were signs that she survived. Other days.. well, she was grateful that they were easy to conceal.

She'd adjusted to her hearing loss. Louise had refused any kind of hearing aids, and now, whatever she heard was normal to her. She couldn't tell anyone what it was like to be partially deaf, because she could barely remember how she used to hear.

She didn't feel partially deaf unless someone mumbled, or if it was noisy and they weren't facing her. Louise would not hesitate to loudly remind those people that it was just good manners to look at someone when you're talking to them. One thing that couldn't be helped was the not-being-able-to-tell-which-direction-sounds-came-from thing, and that was just something she had to live with. Louise was adamant that hearing aids would not help with that.

All in all, Louise thought she had turned out pretty well. She had definitely subverted expectations; her grades were good, and she'd been knuckling down and learning the books, so when the time came for her to take over the restaurant, she would be ready. She had a decent amount of savings and had learnt how to budget. She was so ready to take on the world.

A wry smile crossed her face; she knew most people had expected her to be some kind of train wreck. Grandma Gloria had more than once said that Louise was going to be one of _those_ people; pregnant at fourteen, on drugs at fifteen, and in jail at sixteen. And there was very few things Louise enjoyed more than proving someone wrong.

Louise put the laptop aside, and sat up, looking about her room. All of the gifts she had received from her rescuers, she had kept. The toys were in a storage box under her bed. Except for Kuchi Kopi, who still remained on her nightstand, and she smiled at the little night light.

She was proud of herself. Like, really proud. Louise had healed enough to the point where she wasn't embarrassed about what had happened to her. She had healed enough where she could say, “yes, it was terrifying. Yes, I was afraid for my life. Yes, I'll always remember it.” It was a part of her; she understood that now.

It was one of the reasons she still had Kuchi Kopi. She could now admit that her time in the well had left her with a fear of the dark. It hadn't been too bad before that, but once she had been freed,

she soon found that she couldn't stand the dark, and had needed it on every night.

Gradually, as the years went by, even just having Kuchi Kopi nearby helped enormously, and now Louise only switched the night light on when she had one of her rare nightmares.

Even so, she would never get rid of Kuchi Kopi, the greatest Japanese character ever. He wasn't just part of her childhood; he was part of her. She still had the Kuchi Kopi book series, and DVD's of the anime that had premiered the year she was freed. Louise could still remember how excited she had been for that, and it had lived up to all of her expectations.

The enormous card Patrick and Simon had given her now hung on her wall, and her Courage and Bravery plaque was mounted next to it. Of course, Louise made sure these weren't overshadowed by her “Jaws” and Sleater-Kinney posters, which took centre stage. She'd missed them the last time they were in Bog Harbour, and she was determined not to let that happen again.

One item from her past that was not prominently displayed was her very first set of prosthetics. Louise kept those in the back of her wardrobe. Even now, she didn't really understand why she'd held onto them all these years. Perhaps for the museum that would be dedicated to her after she'd finished her time ruling the world. Visitors would surely want to see them.

* * *

Stretching, Louise rose from the bed, pausing to admire the framed photo of her, Koji, and Yuki on the red carpet in Tokyo, which rested on her nightstand. Another indulgent smile crossed her face; she'd also kept the dress she wore to the premiere. Even with her petite frame, she couldn't hope of fitting into it any more, but it was another item for The Amazing Louise Belcher and the Extraordinary Life She Lived Museum. That dress had travelled to Japan, the greatest country in the world, and had posed with the two greatest actors of all time. That was something else that people would definitely want to see.

In the little space behind her headboard was where Louise kept her notepads. Much as she loved her mother, Linda couldn't help but snoop around, and Louise didn't want her finding them.

Louise still wrote; not only did she enjoy it (who would have ever thought that she, Louise Belcher, would enjoy writing?) but it still helped her in little ways. If she was having a bad day, then she could look back through her notes, sometimes from nearly a decade ago, and she could see how far she'd come. It was especially helpful when she would sometimes think that she'd made little to no progress. These words, these paragraphs, the prose, the little stories, had all grown more coherent over the years. It was proof of her improvement.

Lately, she'd been writing down her experience of the incident from beginning to end, almost like a story. Her own private joke was that if she was ever in need of money, then she could always sell it as a memoir. It amused her to think that she was literally sitting on a gold mine, because it would definitely be a best seller. Of course it would; she wrote it.

At that moment, she was feeling good. Really good; she now relished the feeling, when for so long she had felt nothing. Being able to feel happy was something she never thought she would appreciate, but now, when the happiness came, Louise did her best to hold onto it. Most of the time, it worked.

Yes, her life had changed; maybe for the better, maybe for the worse. But it had changed, and she couldn't deny it. Some parts of her were now fundamentally different, both physically and mentally, but she'd gotten through it.

She would always be the little girl who was stuck in the well; she'd accepted that. Right now, she was okay with it.

She was alive; she was healthy, and she was awesome. If she ever had a bad day, she would remind herself of these facts. She was here, and she could have very easily been not here, and that was the most important thing.

Louise placed her laptop on her desk, smiling, before deciding to head into the living-room to watch “Winthorpe Manor” with her parents.

No matter what, she was still Louise Belcher, and nothing would ever change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done! Got to admit, it feels weird saying goodbye to this. What did you think? Originally, it was going to end with a reveal that Louise had written the entire thing, but I wasn't sure, so I scrapped it.  
> One thing I noticed when looking back through the story, is that some parts felt rushed to me, so I've gone back and expanded them, and added additional "scenes," in most every chapter.
> 
> I'm also linking to my Twitter, which shows two drawings I made for this story:  
> https://twitter.com/Kawaii_Soprano/status/1216523373955731457  
> https://twitter.com/Kawaii_Soprano/status/1227156618091077632
> 
> I'm going to take a little publishing break, and work on some other Bob's fan fiction, which are:  
> The Origin of the Ears: a story about how Louise got her bunny ears. I'm almost done with that, but I'm not sure when I will start uploading.  
> Learning to Live Without You: an alternate version of this where Louise dies in the well. I have no idea how long I want that to be, so I'll need to work on that.  
> I also have a WIP for something out of my comfort zone. It's in the early stages, and I hope I'm able to write it.

**Author's Note:**

> So, that's the first chapter done. What did you think of it? I know it's a bit long, but I wanted to try and convey the helplessness that the family are feeling; I really wanted to try and delve into it.  
> For the longest time, this story was actually called "The Louise Belcher Story," but a few days ago, inspiration struck: "A Cry in the Park"! I might title it as "A Cry in the Park: The Louise Belcher Story," but I'd like to know your opinions.  
> Also, I'd just like to make it clear that I've only been watching the show for less than six months now (I know; I'm terrible!) therefore, character like Gretchen, Aunt Gayle, Mr. Fischoeder and Edith and Harold won't be making appearances. I simply feel that I don't know them that well, and I wouldn't be able to write them correctly.


End file.
